


Under the Table

by Janina



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jon is blindsided, One Night Stand, Sansa is a thief, Sansa pretends to be Alayne Stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:24:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 74,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Jon is a businessman and meets Sansa one night at a dinner his clients have put on in his honor. Sansa is a waitress and not a very good one, and Jon finds himself drawn to her. He asks her if she’d like to retire to his hotel room for a nightcap. She agrees and they have passionate sex all night. </p><p>When Jon wakes up in the morning he finds her gone…along with the money that had been in his wallet. He is determined to find her, only he can’t. It’s like she doesn’t exist. </p><p>One year later, he’s dating Ygritte and is introduced to her roommate Sansa…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The pretty I made for this...
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://s1132.photobucket.com/user/Janina44/media/newstorycollage_zpstuenj1gt.jpg.html)  
> 

**Seattle, Washington**

Jon Snow hated business dinners. He hated having to smile until his face hurt, having to schmooze, having to pretend that there wasn’t anything he’d rather do than have dinner with a bunch of people he didn’t know. He wasn’t much of a people person to begin with, but when it came to having to be fake, to making brain-numbing idle chit-chat? He wanted someone to put a gun to his head. 

What he _wanted_ to do was go up to his hotel room, perhaps rent some porn and rub one out before going to bed and having to get up at the ass crack of dawn to travel back home. 

_I’m twenty-seven years old. I’m successful and rich…and bored out of my mind_ , Jon thought. He forced himself to smile at the gentleman across from him as he blathered on about some windsurfing he’d done on his last big vacation. 

Jon didn’t care.

This dinner was put on for him, or rather Targaryen Associates, to celebrate a recent merger he’d assisted them with. It had resulted in quite a boon for them and so they wanted to thank him and Targaryen Associates properly. Jon wasn’t sure why he had to be the face of the company like this to begin with. Why couldn’t Dany do it? She was the head honcho after all. 

The hotel he was staying in was quite nice and, conveniently, it was where this dinner was being held. The company Targaryen Associates had taken under their wing had pulled out all the stops and rented a room that overlooked the hotel courtyard. If Aegon, who usually joined him in these things, hadn’t come down with the flu before Jon had had to leave, he wouldn’t be sitting here alone and trying to appear interested in the pictures the guy next to him was now showing him. 

Then, like an army of ants, the waiters and waitresses serving this assembled group came bustling through the door to serve the first course. Jon figured that at least he wouldn’t have to talk much now. It would be rude to speak with his mouth full after all. 

A plate of salad was placed before him. It looked as though someone had doled out a literal handful of salad. It was a sad display, but he couldn’t say anything about it. Besides, he wasn’t keen on salad all that much anyway. 

“Would you like pepper, sir?” the waitress, who appeared next to him, asked. 

Jon nodded and she ground out some on his plate. “More, sir?”

He looked up at her to tell her no, thank you, and found himself looking at possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her blue eyes were sharp and clear, and she had auburn hair that was currently pulled back into a ponytail. She had sharp cheekbones, ivory skin, and a siren’s smile. “Uh, no, thank you,” Jon managed to say. She’d caught him completely off guard. 

She smiled and moved on and Jon followed her with his eyes. The wait staff wore all black and her uniform was a bit boxy and unflattering, but from what he could tell, she was tall and slender and her hair was longer than he’d thought – it reached down to her waist and shimmered in the light. 

Jon was suddenly quite awake and quite aware. Of her at least. 

After the salad there was the choice of fruit or soup. His siren stood behind the guy across from Jon with a pen and pad in hand and was jotting down what people wanted. When she looked at Jon, their eyes locked and her pink lips curved into a small smile.

“What would you like, sir?”

 _You, spread out on the table and me inside you,_ came the unbidden thought. 

“Uh, the soup,” he said. 

“Good choice, sir,” she said and winked at him before moving on. 

Jon’s heart thudded hard in his chest. He’d never had this reaction to a woman before. Certainly not to one he hadn’t had a real conversation with. It was that smile of hers, and those eyes and that red hair…

Jon tracked her every move with his eyes. He noticed that she seemed to be taking a lot of direction from her co-workers and Jon wondered if she was new. She’d had one near miss with a plate and had gotten a dirty look from one of the waiters. She had made a face as if to say ‘I’m such a klutz!’ and had moved on. It made Jon smile when she did that. Everyone around them was so serious, but this woman wasn’t. She didn’t seem to take herself as seriously as her co-workers who didn’t even smile at anyone. He caught her stealing looks at him, too. And when their eyes would meet, her gaze would skitter away and she’d look embarrassed. 

When she placed the soup down she leaned over and whispered, “I put a little extra in there for you,” and moved on without missing a beat. When she was on the other side of the table, their eyes locked again and she smiled at him. Jon smiled back. 

Dinner came and went, and then it was time for dessert and coffee. At this point people began to get up and mill about the room, splitting up into little groups to speak to one another. Jon stayed seated and when his siren came out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts, he was determined to find a way to talk to her. 

On her way to the table though, she tripped. The plates on the tray came crashing down and his siren stared at the mess on the floor as though she couldn’t believe that had just happened. She looked up at Jon with wide, fearful eyes, and Jon made to get up and help her when some burly guy with a thick neck and a protruding stomach came rushing over and grabbed her arm. He dragged her off to the kitchen by her arm in a manner that pissed Jon off as other members of the wait staff swarmed around the mess to clean it up. Jon got up and ignored the people around him calling to him and bee-lined for the kitchen. He pushed his way in and found Mr. Thick Neck yelling at her and the rest of the wait staff gaping at them.

“I never should have hired you, you’re utterly worthless and stupid—”

“Hey!” Jon said, loud enough to be heard over Mr. Thick Neck. 

He stopped and looked at Jon, looking torn between telling Jon to mind his own business and playing nice.

“Leave her alone,” Jon commanded. “You can’t say things like that to her.”

“Sir, with all due respect—”

“Respect? You don’t have respect. If you did, you wouldn’t talk to anyone the way you’re talking to her,” Jon said. 

“Sir, it’s okay,” his siren said. 

“No, it’s not,” he told her. “Apologize,” he said to Thick Neck. 

Thick Neck rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. He heaved a deep sigh and Jon figured he was probably contemplating telling Jon to get the fuck out of his kitchen. He was probably considering what would happen if he did. He was also probably trying to scare Jon by looking intimidating. 

Jon, again, didn’t care. He might be bigger than Jon, but Jon was pretty confident in his ability to take him down if it came to that. 

Finally, Thick Neck looked at her with a jaw clenched so tight it ticked and said, “I’m sorry.”

His siren nodded and looked at Jon in awe. 

Jon smiled at her. “You wanna get out of here?”

“God yes,” she breathed.

“She needs to finish her shift,” Thick Neck said. 

“She’s done,” Jon said and glared at him. “You wouldn’t want to make me unhappy, would you? I know the people paying this tab….”

Thick Neck grunted and stabbed a stubby finger in her direction. “You better be here on time tomorrow.”

She nodded and walked away from him and over to Jon. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“I’m ready to get out of here, too. Join me?” he asked nervously. Jon didn’t get nervous by much these days, not with the job he had, but this beautiful woman had changed things. 

She broke into a wide smile, showing off perfect straight white teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“Call me Jon,” he said, and realized he sounded a bit breathless. 

“Alayne,” she said. 

“Alayne,” he repeated. He offered her his arm and with a laugh that was music to Jon’s ears, she took it and he led her out of the kitchen, through the dining room, and out into the hall. “Will you wait here?” he asked. “I just need to say my goodbyes. I won’t be long.”

She nodded and looked up at him demurely. “Of course.”

Jon had never said goodbye so fast in his life. And with genuine exuberance, too. No one said a word about the waitress he’d gone after and escorted into the hall, either. If anyone would hear about it later, it would be Dany. They wouldn’t say anything to Jon’s face and risk insulting him. 

When he came back out he found Alayne just where he’d left her. “I have a change of clothes in my car,” she told him. “Do you mind if I grab them?”

Jon shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll even come with you.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to do that.”

He was afraid she was just humoring him though and disappear if he didn’t. However, he could not be a creeper. “I’ll wait at the front?”

She smiled and nodded. “I promise I’ll be quick.” She jetted off through a side door and Jon hurriedly made his way to the front of the hotel. His heart was pounding hard. He wanted this woman. Wanted her so badly his hands shook. 

He started to pace while he waited for her. Did he have condoms? Yeah, he was pretty sure he had condoms. He never left home without them the way some people didn’t leave home without their American Express. He raked a hand through his dark curly hair and looked towards the front doors, willing her to come through them. 

Dany had told him not too long ago that he might not find life so dull if he’d find someone to date. And while Jon doubted he could date Alayne being that she lived on the other side of the country, maybe having some really great sex would do the trick just as well. 

Just as Jon began to worry that Alayne had left him, she came waltzing through the double doors. She wore faded low-rise jeans, black flats, and a red sleeveless top that clung to her curves and showed off her flat stomach. Her hair was down and free and it looked like she’d put on red lipstick. She smiled and maintained eye contact with him until she was standing right in front of him. 

“No one was around,” she told him. “So I changed in my car. So, what do you want to do?” 

_You_ , he thought. “Come up to my room?” he asked. Please don’t say no, please, please…

“Okay,” she said with a coy smile. 

Jon offered her his arm again and she slipped hers through his and together they strode to the elevator.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon managed to contain himself as they made their way to his room. Once inside, he even managed to get them both a drink from his mini-bar – she went with water, he went with a nip of whiskey. 

“So, what do you do?” Alayne asked as she sat on the couch in front of his bed and kicked off her shoes. 

“I’m an investment banker,” he said. 

“You must be pretty important to be doing dinners like that.”

He nodded. “I am.”

She chuckled. “Modest, too.”

“Well, why lie? My cousin owns the business. She ran it with her husband before he passed on.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. So it’s a family business then.”

“Yes.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven. You?”

“Twenty-five.” She bit her lip and looked up at him a bit anxiously. “Jon, I want you to know that – okay, I know this is going to sound trite and so very cliché…”

“Tell me.”

“I’ve never done this before. Gone up to a man’s room like this.”

He grinned. “There’s a first time for everything.” He believed it, too. He could count on both hands and feet how many times he’d been told that, but something about Alayne made him believe her. It was probably how she, too, looked nervous. 

“I’m not sure what came over me down there,” she murmured as she stood and placed her water on the side table. “I was a little bold winking at you. It’s just that you’re…you know…hot.”

Jon kicked off his shoes. Then he took off his suit jacket. The silence between them as he did this stretched and he could see her watching him with a mixture of lust and nerves. He’d wanted to build the tension a little; make them both crazy with want and need, but he was already there. He just hoped she was, too. He strode over to her and took her face in hands. “And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life,” he breathed. “I wanted you the second I saw you, Alayne.”

“You have me, Jon,” she whispered. 

Their lips collided in the most passionate kiss of Jon’s short life. He had to have her. Now. They both pulled at each other’s clothes, at one point Jon thought his shirt might have ripped. He didn’t care. She could rip his clothes to shreds, just as long as he got to put his hands on her. 

When they were both naked, Jon lifted her and her legs wrapped around his waist. He carried her to the bed and lay her down on it. He gazed down at her, running a hand over her hip, her belly and up to her breasts. “You are so fucking beautiful, Alayne.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased. With one hand she ran her hand down his body and when she got to his erection she paused. Jon thought he was going to die if she didn’t touch him. “Do you have condoms?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he rasped. He got off the bed and went to his suitcase. _Please let me have condoms_ , he thought. He did. _Thank God!_

He carried one over and laid it on the bed. Alayne was up on her elbows watching him and Jon couldn’t take his eyes off her. He stood at the edge of the bed and pulled her by her legs so that her ass was on the edge of it. 

She grinned at him and looked at him in question. “Jon?”

He smirked and leaned over her, suckling one breast into his mouth. He covered the other one with his hand and moaned. “Right in the palm of my hand,” he muttered. Her perfect breasts were tipped with a cherry red nipples that just begged for his mouth. 

“Mmmm…Jon,” she moaned as she dug her fingers through his hair. 

God, he loved the sound of his name moaned like that.

Jon kissed and caressed a path down her body, worshipping every part of her. Her skin was like satin and he couldn’t stop touching her. He then got down on his knees and spread her legs. Alayne got up on her elbows to watch. She licked her lips and he met her gaze as he lowered his mouth to her pink, glistening folds. 

She tasted sweet and perfect and he’d never wanted to make a woman come more. He flicked his tongue against her clit, sucked it in his mouth, and fucked her with his tongue. When Alayne fondled her breasts with her hands as she gazed down at him, Jon thought he might come right then and there. She tweaked her nipples and let her head fall back. Jon traced his name on her clit and when she sobbed out an orgasm, Jon drank from her deeply. He wanted her taste on his lips forever. 

She reached down at tugged on his hair lightly. “I want you inside me now,” she said. 

Jon wanted inside her, too. He thought he might actually perish on the spot if he didn’t get there. When Alayne scooted back to the middle of the bed, her porcelain skin like ivory against the black comforter, Jon thought if he was an artist he would paint her. He stroked his cock as he stared down at her hungrily, wanting to commit every single inch of her to memory. She was a Goddess.

She picked up the condom wrapper on the comforter and tore into the foil. She held it up between two fingers and said, “Come here, big boy.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a feral grin, he crawled over to her and straddled her waist. His cock pointed straight at her, leaking precum. “Alayne, put it on me,” he rasped. “Hurry.”

She smiled that siren’s smile at him again and then leaned forward and took him in her mouth instead. “Oh, fuck!” he exclaimed. His hands tunneled through her hair and when she took him deep into her throat he thought he might go cross-eyed. Her head bobbed back and forth on his cock, and each time she took him a little deeper. “Alayne,” he gasped and stopped her. “Put the condom on me now. I need inside you.”

She rolled the condom on him slowly and Jon strained for control. When the condom was on though, all control fled. He practically pounced on her, and she spread her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Jon plunged inside her and they both shared a groan. 

She was so tight, so hot, and so wet, and Jon never wanted to leave her. “Fuck, Alayne, you feel so fucking hot around my cock.”

“Mmmmm…and you’re so hard, Jon. You’re filling me right up…”

Jon couldn’t slow down. He set a furious pace and with every thrust Alayne chanted, “Fuck me, Jon, fuck me, oh God, I need your hard cock. Just like that, oh fuck yes, Jon, more…”

Jon was beyond words. He was surrounded by her scent, her body, her voice – he was lost in a haze of Alayne. When she came, her back arched off the bed and she screamed. Jon was right behind her, the feel of her walls clamping down around him and sight of her shattering was too much. “Alayne, Alayne, Alayne,” he babbled as he jerked inside the condom while deep inside her. 

He fell against her, spent. 

Her body quaked under him and he lifted his head and looked down at her. She was laughing. When she saw the question on his face she said, “That was fucking amazing, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” he agreed. “Though I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman laugh after…”

She grinned and pushed him off her and then onto his back. She leaned over him and whispered, “You’ve never met a woman like me, Jon.”

And then she climbed off him and headed for the bathroom. Jon got up on his elbows and watched her walk away from him, transfixed. She certainly didn’t seem so shy anymore. 

She looked over her shoulder at him and smirked. “You coming?” 

He felt like a trained monkey in his haste to join her. He was pretty sure she already had him wrapped around those delicate fingers of hers. 

“Bring another condom!” she called out from the bathroom. 

Jon grabbed another condom on the way into the bathroom, and took the one he still had on off and tossed it in the trash in the bathroom. When he turned and saw her underneath the spray in the glass shower, her body wet, rivulets of water streaming down her body and causing her hair to look darker, Jon thought this had to be what Aphrodite looked like emerging from the sea. 

He walked into the shower with her and shut the door behind him. He placed the condom on the shelf next to the shampoo and then gathered her in his arms and kissed her voraciously. 

“You’re right,” he said after they were both left panting. “I’ve never met a woman like you before. And I’ve never wanted a woman like this before either.”

She smiled and kissed him. Before he could deepen the kiss though, she broke the kiss and began to kiss her way down his body. When she got to his cock, she engulfed it in his mouth and hummed around it. 

“Oh, fuck, Alayne,” he grunted. “Suck me with that sweet mouth of yours…”

He no longer thought she might have him wrapped around her delicate fingers. He knew she did. 

xxxxxxxx

Jon woke slowly the next morning. His body was sore as if he’d just had one of his punishing workouts at the gym, but he had never been happier about that than he was right now. His sore muscles would remind him of last night and of Alayne. He peered at the clock and shot up in bed. He had forgot to set the alarm! He’d missed his flight. Shit!

But then he thought of having more time with Alayne and smiled. He turned to gather her up in his arms, wake her up with kisses and make love to her again (make love?) and found her not there. He panicked. 

_“This can’t be the end,” he whispered to her as he gathered her in his arms. This last time he’d taken her on all fours, her hands wrapped around the headboard and her head buried in a pillow, screaming into it._

_Alayne cuddled into him sleepily. “You go home tomorrow.”_

_“I’ll come back to visit. I’ll fly you out to me,” he told her, his lips against her forehead. “I have to see you again.”_

_“Yes,” she murmured. “I’d like that.”_

She could be in the bathroom. Yeah, that was it. She was in the bathroom. She wouldn’t have left without giving him her number. 

But he didn’t hear the fan on in the bathroom. Jon climbed out of bed and thought of how he’d taken her from behind when the headboard tapped the wall. When he passed by the couch he thought of how she’d rode him there, and when he looked into the empty bathroom, his heart sinking to his stomach, he remembered how he’d taken her on the bathroom counter, her sleek legs on his shoulders as he’d pounded inside her. And then there was the shower where she’d sucked him off and he’d fucked her against the wall. 

_Coffee_ , he thought. Maybe she went to get them coffee. 

But then ten minutes later he thought maybe not. There was no not on the bureau, on the nightstand, nothing in the bathroom, in his suitcase. He checked his wallet, maybe she’d tucked it in there…

She hadn’t. 

But he _was_ missing the three crisp one hundred dollar bills that had been inside. 

_No, Alayne, no,_ Jon thought and put a fist to his forehead. _Don’t tell me she fucking robbed me…_

Furious and strangely hurt, Jon showered quickly, dressed and packed. He turned his phone on, hoping by some stroke of luck she’d programmed her number in there, maybe sent him a text….nothing. There were, however, a dozen calls from Dany. 

He didn’t want to deal with Dany right now. He wanted to find the woman that he’d had the best night of his fucking life and had robbed him blind come morning. 

He marched down to the desk with his suitcase and garment bag to check out and then asked if he could speak to whoever was in charge of the hotel catering. 

The manager came out then. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Snow?”

“A woman,” Jon said. “I’m looking for a woman--”

“Aren’t we all?” the manager said with a grin. 

Jon ignored him. “She was part of the waiting staff that served us last night in the Black Room.”

“Would you like to take a walk with me to the kitchens?”

“Yes, please,” Jon said. 

“You may leave your things here, sir,” the manager said and the woman behind the desk took them from Jon. 

Jon followed the manager down to the kitchens. He felt like they were never going to get there, and the man wouldn’t stop rambling on. Jon paid him no attention. All he could focus on was how it actually stung to think that he’d been the only one in the moment with Alayne. That all of what she’d done was to get to his money. Or had that been an afterthought? Maybe he hadn’t been set up. Maybe she had genuinely wanted him as he’d wanted her. He couldn’t have been the only one feeling that heat, that passion, that raw lust and need…

He’d felt awake for the first time in a long time last night. He didn’t want it to be something he felt alone. He wanted to know that she’d felt it, too. 

Thick Neck was the one he had to talk to, and while it bothered him to know that this jackass would know what he and Alayne had been up to last night, Jon still wanted to find her. 

“She didn’t show up for her shift this morning,” Thick Neck told him when Jon asked if he had any information he could share. “I’ve already shredded her information.”

Jon wanted to punch something. “Is there anyone on the staff that might know where Alayne is or have her number or—”

“Alayne?” Thick Neck asked with a frown. “Her name wasn’t Alayne. Her name was Sophie.”

And that’s when Jon knew he had definitely been set up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone! :)

**One Year Later  
King’s Landing, Rhode Island**

“You are coming over, right?” Ygritte asked. 

It wasn’t really a question in Jon’s mind. It was more that Ygritte was telling him what he was going to do in the _form_ of a question. Jon hated it when people did that. Dany did that when she wanted him to do something. They dressed it up like a question and made it seem as though he had a choice, when really it was a demand. 

He supposed he couldn’t really blame Ygritte too much. They had been dating for a few months now and over the last few weeks he’d been swamped with work and had had to cancel a couple of their dates. 

While Ygritte knew that he was a busy man with a high-powered job, she still didn’t appreciate it when his job took him away from her. Jon rather had the feeling that it was something she was going to have to eventually accept. That’s just the way it was. 

However, she had been telling him she wanted him to come to her barbeque for the past month. She wanted Jon to meet her friends and her roommate, Sansa. Anytime Jon had come over to pick up Ygritte, this Sansa was always out. They were like ships passing in the night. He remembered Ygritte telling him that she kept odd hours. 

Jon pulled on his shoes and sighed into the phone. “I have my shoes on and I’m ready to go now,” he said.

“Don’t forget the beer.”

“In the fridge, chilled, and also ready to go,” he said. 

“I’ll be waiting!” Ygritte said and ended the call.

Jon sighed and put his phone down on the table. He liked Ygritte, he really did, but he didn’t feel that need to meet her friends. He didn’t think that was a good sign. If he really cared for her and this relationship, shouldn’t he care about that? These people were important to her, he should want to make a good impression. 

Jon got up from his couch with a sigh, went to the kitchen, grabbed the six pack out of the fridge, stuffed it into a bag, and out the door he went from his posh penthouse to Ygritte’s two family condo. 

When he saw the line of cars down the street he sighed heavily. Just how many of them were here for Ygritte’s barbeque? He hoped not all of them…It was definitely not good that this felt like work – and not the kind he was good at, either. 

He hoped he was dressed down enough in the low rise jeans and black v-neck t-shirt he wore. He wasn’t really a board shorts and sandals kind of guy he imagined Ygritte’s friends to be. He walked down the path to her house and was about to head up the few short steps to her door when he heard voices and music coming from the backyard. He trekked off to the side of the house to where the wooden fence encased the backyard and pushed the gate open. 

He stood there awkwardly the bag of beer in his hand and he looked around at all the people congregated in Ygritte’s backyard. He wanted to turn around and go home. All these people..

“Jon!” Fuck. Ygritte saw him. It was over now.

She came rushing over and Jon forced himself to smile. Her red hair bounced around her shoulders and his mind drifted for a few seconds to someone else. He shook his head to clear it and lifted the bag. “Beer.”

“Excellent. The coolers are on the deck. Come on.” She took his free hand and led him up to the deck. He smiled at the strangers who waved to him. After putting the beers in the cooler, Ygritte took him out to the deck to meet her friends. Jon noted the gaggle of kids in the back of the yard running around. 

The only one Jon remembered the name of was Tormund, and that was probably because Tormund asked Jon if he’d help him with the food later. Jon agreed. He liked having something to do. Idle chit chat was not something to do, it was a nuisance. 

He was talking to Tormund about what there was to grill up when a female voice boomed across the yard: “Who wants a water fight!”

He heard the kids behind him cheer and come running, sounding like a herd of wild animals. Jon looked up to the deck to see who had shouted about a water fight and he froze. 

_Alayne._

It was Alayne or Sophie or whatever the fuck her name was.

Was it wrong that his first thought was how she was so fucking beautiful he couldn’t stand it? She stood on the deck, beaming at the kids that came running toward her, her auburn hair glinting in the sun. She wore sunglasses, a black top, and black pedal pushers and black flip-flops. She looked like some kind of auburn-haired Audrey Hepburn. 

She dug into the plastic bag in her hand and started handing out toy guns – no, water guns. He heard her tell the kids that they could only spray each other, not the adults. And then she made them promise. They did in unison and Jon smiled. 

No. 

This woman fucked him (it was the best sex of his life) and stole from him. She deserved his anger and demands for answers, not his smiles and his body reacting to the sight of her as it had the night they’d met. 

“Sansa!” Ygritte called out. “Come here, I want you to meet Jon.”

Sansa looked over at them and held up a finger in the universal “wait a minute” gesture. After the water guns were passed out and Sansa – if that was even her real name – chucked the back in the trash can, she came over to Jon and Ygritte. 

Fucking hell. Of _course_ she was Ygritte’s roommate. He’d heard a lot about her, too. How much fun she was, how she made Ygritte laugh all the time.

Jon watched her closely, looking for anything that hinted she remembered him and was uncomfortable with this. Maybe regretful. 

Nothing. She gave _nothing_ away when Ygritte introduced them. She didn’t even bat an eyelash – not that he could fucking see behind her Audrey Hepburn glasses! 

When he took her hand to shake, Jon ignored the fact that her touch was like an electric current running through his body. How could he possibly have this reaction to someone that had stolen from him? 

_As he pounded into her from behind she egged him on the whole time and it made him hotter. “Fuck me, Jon, yes, just like that,” she panted. “Right in my hot pussy…”_

Oh, right. _That_ was how.

“Nice to meet you, Jon,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“As have I about you,” he said, and then added. “Sansa.”

She smiled at him and he hated that his heart started to race. “I’m sure we’ll be good friends, but for now, I’m going to check on the kids.”

Jon didn’t want her to check on the kids. He wanted her to stay right there and talk to him. How could she have no reaction to him at all? How was this possible? She couldn’t have actually forgotten, could she? Did she do that so often that he was just another face in a long line of men…

His gut twisted at the thought. That he could be another in a long line of men she’d fucked like that…no. 

“Jon, ready?” Tormund asked. 

Jon nodded and focused on grilling. Later, he’d find a way to corner “Sansa” and get some answers.

xxxxxx

Jon’s chance to talk to Sansa came later in the evening. Not that he’d been watching her like a hawk all day or something (he had been), but as soon as he saw her duck into the house, he got up and excused himself. 

When he entered the kitchen from the porch’s sliding glass doors, he found Sansa rummaging in the fridge for something. She found it (wine bottle), and turned around. She nearly dropped it when she saw Jon. Her sunglasses now off, her cornflower blue eyes widened. “Jon, you scared me!” she exclaimed. She laughed, her hand over her heart. “Are you looking for the bathroom? It’s right down—”

“Alayne,” he said.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him in confusion. “No, I’m Sansa. I know there have been a lot of people here for you to meet—”

“Stop fucking with me, Alayne.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

She was good. She was really good. She had the innocent act down pat. 

“ _Sansa_ , I know you know who I am,” he growled. 

Her brow furrowed. “I do,” she said slowly as though he was some kind of madman she had to keep calm. “You’re Ygritte’s boyfriend.”

“Is Sansa even your real name?” he demanded. He was real tired of this game. “How do you think Ygritte would feel if she knew we spent the night together?”

She furrowed her brow. “Do you need to lay down or something?”

The porch doors slid open behind them and Jon cursed inwardly. He shot Sansa/Alayne/Sophie a look that said _‘This is not over’_ and then nodded to the person behind him and headed back out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone! :)
> 
> A pretty I made for this chapter...
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://s1132.photobucket.com/user/Janina44/media/collageunderthetable_zpszpnpa3uf.jpg.html)  
> 

The following afternoon Jon was going through his emails and trying not to think about Alayne/Sophie/Sansa when there was a knock at his door. He hadn't been expecting anyone and so immediately he thought it must be Dany coming to check on him. She worried about him sometimes, especially when he was being, as she put it "Broodier than usual."

Whatever. 

It wasn't Dany though. It was Alayne/Sophie/Sansa. She stood there in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, her sunglasses pushed up over her head like a headband. She arched a brow at him. "Jon. We meet again."

He glared at her. 

She smirked. "Can I come in?"

"What are you going to steal if I let you?"

"Your...SOUL!" And then she threw her head back and let out an evil laugh.  


Jon didn't laugh. Maybe under different circumstances he would, but not now. He stepped aside and she smiled cheekily at him as she passed by. 

His hands itched to touch her. "So, no more pretending I'm insane?"

She looked at him and shrugged. "I realize I couldn't really keep that up. You're too smart for me to pull that off for long."

"Gee. Thanks."

"You should take that as a compliment, Holmes. You'd be surprised how many people I've been able to dupe using that trick."

"You didn't even show any reaction when you met me."

She sighed. "Well, that's because I knew you were dating Ygritte. She showed me a picture of you - by the way, you wear a lobster bib like a boss - and I knew it was only a matter of time before we ran into each other. I figured my little trick yesterday would work well enough in a pinch." 

Jon folded his arms across his chest. "How did you pass security downstairs?"

"Oh, you mean Gandalf? He was distracted by the fire I set in the trash can outside."

Jon gaped at her. "You're kidding."

"Would I lie to you?"

He glared at her. 

"Okay, too soon...a year later, but still too soon."

"How did you find out where I live?" he demanded. 

"Something I like to call the internet. Maybe you've heard of it. You can find anything on it and I highly suggest--"

"What is your real name?"

"Sansa Stark is my real name."

Sansa Stark. He liked that name. 

"Why did you do it?" he asked softly. 

"Why did I steal from you or why did I fuck you?"

"Both," he said though clenched teeth. 

"Well, I stole your money because I wanted to."

"And fucked me?"

"Also wanted to."

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Do you...do you go around..."

"Having sex with random strangers and stealing from them? No. You were the first."

"And last?" he blurted out. He hadn't meant to ask that, but he had to know. He didn't want to analyze why.

"Yes. See, Jon, you were a mark."

"A mark?"

"Yeah, you know target, victim, sucker--"

"I got it, Sansa," he snapped. "Why was I your mark?"

"Well, to be fair everyone in that room was. I managed to pick some idiot's pocket in that crowd."

"Why me, Sansa?"

"Because you looked so miserable sitting there. Like a sad, little puppy. And then you noticed me and I knew you were the one."

"I noticed you?"

"You looked at me like you wanted to eat me alive."

He had. He was ashamed to admit he still wanted to.

"We were supposed to go out," she said. "Go to a club, dance, drink, make out a little. You wouldn't have known until later that I stole your watch or your money or anything else of value that I could have gotten my grubby little hands on. But then you went and asked me up to your room..."

“You made yourself into a whore fucking me like that and then stealing from me,” he said.

Sansa’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you just kind of called me a whore because I can tell that your ego is still quite bruised.”

“You stole from me! After…”

“After really great sex.”

“Yes!”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I needed that money or I was going to be killed?”

His eyes widened. “Were you?”

“No, but would it make you feel better?”

He rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Sansa…”

“I did need the money, Jon. I had gotten myself into a bit of trouble and I needed to get out of town really fast. I had outstayed my welcome in Seattle.”

“What did you do?”

“It’s in the past why dwell on it?”

“I’d like to know what my money got you out of.”

“Well, I actually could have been killed. I’d pissed off the wrong people.”

“Did you steal from them?”

“I might have skimmed from the top a little…”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I overcharged the people I was taking money from in order to make a profit for myself. When the people I collected fees for found out they wanted my head on a platter.” She smirked. “See? I can do banking, too.”

“Ygritte said you keep odd hours. Sansa, what are you into?”

“Well, I like candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach and—”

“ _Sansa_. Are you involved in anything illegal?”

“Define illegal…”

“Is anything you’re doing putting Ygritte in danger?”

“Ygritte is safe.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t believe her. Something in her face suggested that no, she wasn’t. 

She came over to him and planted herself in front of him. She smiled and said, “I just wanted to come over here and clear the air. You’re dating my roommate and I don’t think there is any reason for her to know about what happened between us. Ygritte doesn’t know anything about my business because I’m not real big on sharing. You go your way, I go mine, and we’ll all get along just fine. We’ll just stick a pin in the past and continue on.” She held out her hand. “Deal?”

Jon looked down at her extended hand and then up at her face…her lips. He forced himself to look in her eyes and shake her hand. “Deal.”

She looked warily at him and Jon supposed she knew exactly what he’d been thinking. It wasn’t as though he’d hid it well. She pulled her hand from his and bowed. “Good day, Jon Snow.”

Everything in Jon wanted to stop her from leaving. He wanted to follow her, press her against the door and take her right there. It was madness and it made no sense. She’d stolen from him and he still wanted her. She had proved herself duplicitous and had made no real bones about the fact that she had used him. Plus, he was dating Ygritte! What kind of greedy bastard was he?

“Sansa,” he said gruffly. 

She stopped and looked at him. “Yeah?”

“Are you in trouble now?”

She smiled that siren’s smile. “I _am_ trouble.” And then she was gone and Jon had to force himself to stand still and not go after her. Instead, he went to the window to watch her go. It was pathetic really, so goddamn pathetic and wrong…

He stiffened when he saw a sleek black car pull up to the curb. The door opened and Sansa slipped into the back and the car pulled out into traffic. 

“Who the hell are you, Sansa Stark?” he murmured. Jon had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to be able to rest until he figured that out. 

xxxxxxxxxx

“Sansa.”

“Tyrion.” 

Sansa looked over at Sandor, Tyrion’s bodyguard. Sometimes he was hers, too. “Hello, Sandor.”

Sandor grunted at her. That was the closest she’d get to a hello. 

Tyrion Lannister smiled at her. “And who were we scamming out of money today?”

“No one. I had a bridge to mend.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“Which is just a nice way of saying you’re nosy.”

Tyrion laughed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right about that.”

Sansa didn’t mind though. Tyrion had been the one to take her under his wing when she’d arrived in King’s Landing and was scamming people out of their money just to get by. After having hustled Jaime Lannister out of some money in a game of pool, Tyrion had met with her. It had been scary at first – not so much Tyrion, though he did have that aura of someone you did not mess with, but there had also been Sandor with him and he could be downright terrifying. 

Tyrion wasn’t exactly the kind of mob king pin Sansa had imagined, but he was sharp and incredibly intelligent, and he was the only one she knew that could intellectualize having to hurt someone to get his money and make it as if there really was no other way. It was fascinating.

“So, what’s on the agenda, boss?” she asked. 

“Tonight I want you to check out The Wall.”

“The club?”

Tyrion nodded. “Margaery called me the other night. Apparently, a ‘gentleman’ by the name of Ramsay Bolton has been sniffing around in there, looking to deal and scare up some business for his ‘escort service’. Obviously, she doesn’t want that sort of thing going on in her club, and since I do own a portion of it, neither do I. I want you to check it out and see what you can discover about him. I want to know if he’s working alone or for someone. If he’s working for someone, I want to know who.”

“So, by gentleman you mean Grade A Scum and by ‘escort service’ you mean he’s a pimp with a prostitution ring? Grrreaaat. Who will I have with me?”

“Me,” Sandor grunted. 

“One of these days being your snitch is going to get me into trouble,” Sansa mused. 

“You know I’d never let that happen, Sansa,” Tyrion said. His blue eyes were fierce. “I protect my family.”

Sansa knew that, too. The Lannister’s might not be her blood, but they treated her as such. Well, except for Cersei, Tyrion’s sister. She was a bitch as far as Sansa was concerned. “Do you want me to talk to this Ramsay?”

Tyrion nodded and picked up a file he had sitting next to him on the seat. He passed it over to her and Sansa opened it. She looked at the picture of the blue-eyed man with the sharp, angular jaw and floppy hair appreciatively. “He’s kind of hot. You know, in a creepy way.”

“From what I hear he is creepy. I’m considering having Jaime join you as well.”

“What about Brienne instead? Jaime distracts me.”

Tyrion grinned. “Because he flirts with you.”

“I don’t want distractions while dealing with a dealer and a pimp. And what is it he deals? I’m guessing meth.”

“Heroine.”

“Close enough.”

“I’m bringing my pistol in case he gets handsy.”

Tyrion grinned. “I’ll have Jaime close by, too. Don’t want anything to happen to my Sansa.”

“Tell me again why I do this?” she asked. 

Tyrion smiled. “Because, my dear, you like organized crime much better than the disorganized kind you were involved in before. I let you be my eyes and ears and you get to pick pockets and scam people to your hearts content. Plus, there’s always those big dinners on Sunday.”

Sansa’s stomach rumbled as if on cue. Tyrion grinned. “Jaime’s making lasagna.”

“I see a food coma in my future,” Sansa groaned and let her head fall back.

“You don’t just work for us, Sansa, you’re part of our family,” Tyrion said softly. 

Sansa smiled at him and couldn’t help but feel a jolt of sadness go through her. Tyrion and Jaime may have adopted her into the fold, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have family elsewhere. She wondered what her sister Arya was doing…if she was doing well after shutting them all out. She thought of Bran and Rickon and wondered if they’d forgotten her by now while in a family of their own complete with the siblings and parents they’d lost…

Sansa forced her family out of her head looked down one last time at the picture of Ramsay Bolton. His cold eyes stared back at her and Sansa shivered and shut the file.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone! :)

When Ygritte called and asked if he wanted to come over for dinner that evening, Jon agreed. He told himself it had nothing to do with running into Sansa. Sansa probably wasn’t even going to be around. 

But she could be.

When he arrived, Sansa actually answered the door. “We meet again, Jon Snow,” she said and stepped aside to let him pass.

Jon tried not to stare at her, tried not to notice how hot she looked in a pair of skin tight black jeans, and a green and black flowy top that made her auburn hair look even redder. Her blue eyes were made almost cerulean by the makeup she wore. 

“Heading out?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’m going to dinner at a friend’s house.”

“You’re all dressed up for dinner at a friend’s house.”

She shrugged. “I have plans after that.”

Jon stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well, you’re just a regular social butterfly, aren’t you?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sansa—”

“I really need to go, but listen – Ygritte worked really hard on dinner so make sure to tell her how good it is, okay?”

Jon pursed his lips together and nodded. That’s right. He had a girlfriend who had invited him over after having cooked for him, and here he was just wanting to figure Sansa out…to get closer to her. After just one day she’d already turned him inside out and upside down. 

She smiled at him and pushed the door opened. Jon caught it before it slammed shut and Sansa raised her hand and called out, “Good night!”

“There you are! I thought I heard voices.”

Jon turned to find Ygritte coming toward him a big smile on her face. He smiled at her, but it felt forced, he kissed her and even that felt forced too. _Get a fucking grip, Snow,_ he scolded himself. _Sansa was a one-night stand and she fucking stole from you. Ygritte is the woman you’re dating._

Yet he still found himself saying, “Just saw your roommate. Looked like she has big plans for a Sunday night.” _Now tell me where she’s going. Who is this friend she’s having dinner with? Is it a boyfriend?_

“Like I said, she holds strange hours. I think I heard her mention something about going to The Wall later tonight to someone on her phone. Come on, let me get you a drink.”

Ygritte led him to the kitchen by hand and all Jon could think was how odd to be going to a club on a Sunday night. Then he was telling himself he was not going to show up there. He would not do it. What Sansa did on her own time was her own business and he it didn’t matter to him. He had a girlfriend that did things like make him dinner. He didn’t need to be chasing after some little con-artist that would probably steal from him again the first chance she got. 

Satisfied that he’d put a pin in the whole idea, Jon shifted his focus to Ygritte and their date night in. 

xxxxxx

Jon could feel the bass of the music go right through him when he entered The Wall later that night.

He told himself it was a snap decision on his way home from dinner with Ygritte, but he knew that was a lie. He’d been planning to go the whole time. He just liked to pretend that he wasn’t because it made him feel better to think he wasn’t this obsessed with Sansa, and that he was actually a good boyfriend that didn’t do things like obsess over his girlfriend’s roommate. 

Jon looked around the club to get his bearings. Bar against the wall, dance floor in the middle, tables on the edges of the dance floor. He ambled over to the bar to get a drink and hoped he hadn’t missed Sansa yet. It was late, especially for him – actually, it was late for all these people who might have to work tomorrow. And if they didn’t, then he was jealous and needed to look for other work. 

He situated himself at the corner of the bar so he had a good view of the club and ended up sitting next to a giant of a man with a scar on his face who was nursing what could be water, but was probably something hard like vodka. 

He didn’t look happy. He glanced only briefly at Jon when Jon sat down next to him and then looked back out onto the crowd. 

Jon ordered a beer and rested his elbows on the bar. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, and he had a feeling Scarface next to him didn’t want to either. Jon wondered if he was looking for someone, too. 

Someone on the dance floor moved just right and Jon’s breath caught. Sansa. She was in the middle of the dance floor, her hands up in the air and her long hair flowing down her back as she danced to the music. Some guy was facing her, and to Jon fought the urge to glare at him. He was leering at Sansa, and Jon didn’t like it. _Jesus, is that what I look like?_ he thought. 

The guy put his hand on her waist and pointed to the bar and Sansa nodded. They started for the bar and the guy wrapped an arm around her. Jon caught the look of disgust that passed over her face and he frowned. Okay, so was this guy just someone random, or was he her boyfriend and she was just sick of him right now?

He was good-looking Jon supposed, but he still didn’t like the guy. It wasn’t that he was jealous (he was), it was just that the guy looked like a creep. 

They got to the bar and the guy she was with pushed his way through to order them drinks while Sansa glanced Jon’s way. He thought she’d seen him, but no, her eyes weren’t on him. She nodded and Jon saw Scarface nod out of the corner of his eye. 

Wait. What? That had to be a coincidence. 

Then Sansa’s gaze flickered to him and she froze. Her eyes went wide and she did a double take. 

Scarface shifted in his chair. 

Sansa tapped the creepy guy on his shoulder and said something in his ear. He nodded and she started to walk away when the creep patted her on the ass. Murder passed over Sansa’s features and if Jon hadn’t wanted to rip that asshole’s arm off and club him with it, he would have laughed at the look on her face. 

But then she smiled and winked at him before heading down the bar towards Jon. He kept his gaze on hers and she nodded to someplace behind him. Scarface shifted again in his chair and faced Sansa’s way. Her gaze left Jon’s and she shook her head at Scarface.

Scarface turned his head and looked at Jon warningly. Jon slid out of his chair and followed Sansa when she passed by him. 

She led him through a crowd of people and then down a dark hallway which Jon assumed the bathrooms were located. She stopped and turned to face him, making sure she was out of the way of people passing by. “What are you doing here?” she asked. 

“I wanted to see you,” he said. What was the point in lying now?

“Why?” she demanded. 

“Because you’re a mystery to me. I don’t like mysteries. Who’s that guy I’m sitting next to?”

“He’s…a friend.”

Jon looked at her suspiciously. “And the guy you’re dancing with? The one that you looked like you wanted to punch in the face?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “A mark.”

Jon’s temper flared. “You said you didn’t go around having one night stands with men so you can rob them in the morning.”

“I can still steal from him and not fuck him, Jon. Do me a favor and go home.”

“No. This just got interesting.”

“Sansa, sweetheart? Everything okay?”

Jon’s gaze flickered past Sansa and landed on some tall sandy-haired guy all decked out in a suit pants, a button down, and a suit jacket. Definitely not the guy Jon had been sitting next to, nor was it the creep Sansa had been dancing with. 

“What the fuck is going on, Sansa?” Jon demanded. Maybe the creep was a mark, but who were these other guys? Was she in some kind of trouble? 

The sandy-blond haired guy came up beside her and draped an arm around her shoulder a bit possessively. “Hello, honey,” he said with a smile. “How’s my best girl?”

Sansa looked up at him. “I’m fine.” She gestured to Jon. “This is Jon. My roommate’s boyfriend. I was just saying hello to him.”

The guy extended his hand. “Hello, Jon. I’m Jaime. Nice to meet you.”

Jon considered not shaking his hand. But he knew how that would look: like he was jealous. And he wasn’t (he was). So, he took Jaime’s hand and shook it. 

Jaime chuckled and pulled his hand away, shaking it. “Quite the grip you got there, Jon. Tell me, are you here with your girlfriend?”

Jon shook his head. 

“Too bad,” Jaime said. “I’d like to meet her.” Jon knew that was a lie. Jaime looked back down at Sansa, “Ready to go back, darling?”

Sansa rolled her eyes and elbowed him slightly. Jaime let out an ‘oof’ and dropped his arm from around her shoulders. Sansa looked at Jon and said, “Go home.”

Jon just looked at her, but said nothing. She rolled her eyes again and walked off, Jaime following her. 

Jon waited for a count of thirty and then headed back to the bar.


	6. Chapter 6

“Remind me later to ask about the little puppy back there,” Jaime said to Sansa as they made their way back to the club. 

“I doubt I’ll have to remind you, Jaime,” she drawled. “Something tells me you’ll remember just fine on your own.”

He stopped just before they entered the club again and looked down at her. “I don’t think I need to tell you not to drink anything Bolton has given you, right?”

She placed a hand on her hip and glared at him. “Did you forget who you’re talking to?”

Jaime chuckled. “No, I just like to ruffle your feathers.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I better get back before he takes an interest in someone else.”

“Be careful, Sansa,” Jaime called after her. 

Sansa waved a dismissive hand and pushed her way into the fray. She found Ramsay looking anxious as he stood by the bar with their drinks in hand. Sansa put on a wide flirtatious smile as she approached and took her plastic cup of beer from him. “Thank you, kind sir,” she said. 

“You took a while,” he grunted. 

“There was a line. You know how it is.”

“I thought maybe you were tired of me already,” he said and drew his knuckles down her cheek. His knuckles, she’d noticed earlier, had scrapes and cuts on them. Sansa had wondered then as now if they were caused by fighting. She had a feeling they were; she also had the terrible feeling that he probably hit the women that worked for him. She wanted to throw her drink in his face, but instead she forced herself to smile. 

“Of course not,” she said. “You’re the most interesting person here.”

Ramsay smiled big, flashing his teeth. He was the sort that liked having his ego stroked. Sansa didn’t want to think of the other things he might like stroked, too. 

“What do you say we find a table away from all the noise and have a chat?” Ramsay asked. The way he looked at her, as if she was the only woman in the room made Sansa’s stomach turn. If it was anyone else like Jon – no, wait. Not Jon. Jon was Ygritte’s boyfriend. Just because he was hot and great in bed did not mean she still wanted him. He was taken. If it was anyone else like Jaime (that’s better), she wouldn’t have minded so much the way Ramsay looked at her. But this was how Ramsay got women to work for him. He gained their trust, probably promised them a steady supply of drugs, vowed to take care of them…and then probably beat them right around the time they realized they were in much too deep. 

While Sansa was no stranger to the seedier side of life, she was still disturbed by it. As a rule she didn’t have much associations with creeps like this. It wasn’t hard to figure out who they were and so Sansa steered clear and had always hung around the petty thieves. She was exposed much more to people like Ramsay when she’d started working for Tyrion though. Nothing had ever happened to her, knock on wood, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware that something could. But then, that’s why she had Jaime and Sandor. 

“Sounds great,” Sansa said and Ramsay led the way. On the way, Sansa made a big show of getting knocked into and spilling her drink. 

Ramsay whipped around and glared at the guys that Sansa had pretended knocked into her and made to go after them. Rage was written all over his face and Sansa thought two things: 1. something had definitely been in that drink and 2. this guy was a loose canon. 

“I’ll just get another,” she told him. “Don’t fight a bunch of frat boys on my account,” she said to him, placing her hands on his chest. He was strong; she could feel his pecs. She fiddled with the button on his shirt and he surprised her by leaning down and kissing her hard. 

He tasted like beer and something sour. Sansa tried not to gag. Tyrion owed her double for this. 

Ramsay grinned at her smugly. Sansa knew the part she had to play. She batted her lashes and acted the part of the coy untrained girl. Then they were heading for the table again and when Sansa spared a glance over her shoulder and found Sandor making his way through the crowd. Good. Sansa wanted him close. 

She did not, however, see Jaime. She just hoped he was close by, too. 

xxxxxxx

“I thought Sansa told you to home.”

Jon looked down at the hand on his shoulder and then looked at the owner of said hand. Jaime, the guy that who had put his arm around Sansa like he owned her. Jon shot him a look that clearly conveyed _‘Get your hands off me.’_

Jaime either didn’t get the message or he didn’t care. Jon was willing to bet it was the latter from the way Jaime attempted to physically turn Jon around to face him. 

“I don’t take orders from Sansa,” Jon told him and shook Jaime off.

“Jon, right?”

Jon sighed. “Yes. Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m willing to bet that Sansa is in some kind of trouble if she has you and Scarface—”

“Scarface. That’s original. His name is Sandor. Maybe you could ask him if anyone’s ever called him that before. I’d love to see his reaction.”

Jon wanted to punch the grin off Jaime’s face. “That guy? Her ‘mark’? Even I can see he’s not a good guy. He’s a mark, but I’m not sure what for because why would she need you and Scar – _Sandor_ – if she was planning a simple lift of his wallet? Something else is going on.”

“Well, well. Aren’t you a regular Sherlock?”

“Are you part of the mob or something? Is that what this is about?”

Jaime just chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t you have a girlfriend, Jon? How do you think she’d feel knowing you were at some club on a Sunday night panting after her roommate?”

Guilt slammed into Jon, which he then figured was Jaime’s aim. He was right though. He did have a girlfriend and he was here because he was panting after her roommate. What the fuck was he doing? He should be home in bed. He had a meeting in the morning and he had to be on top of his game. 

But he couldn’t leave. Not until he knew Sansa was okay. He didn’t like the look of her “mark”. Jon listened to his instincts and currently they were shouting at him. 

“Listen, Jon, Sansa is a big girl and trust me when I tell you that she can take care of herself. But on the off chance things get a little out of hand she has me and Sandor. Right now though, you charging after her is just going to make her, uh, transaction, difficult for her. Things could get ugly for her and we don’t want that. So, I suggest you go home like a good little puppy and leave this to us.”

Jon pursed his lips together and met Jaime’s gaze dead on. “No.”

xxxxxxxx

Sansa sipped the drink Ramsay had reordered for her from the waitress that came by their table. This time, he wasn’t able to get his hands on it. She grabbed it from the waitress and pulled it close to her. She took three sips of the cool beer and turned into Ramsay who was watching her with a grin. 

“So, tell me,” Sansa said. “What do you do? You know, for work. It must be something pretty awesome if you can party like this on a Sunday night.”

He grinned and Sansa felt as though she’d been slimed. “It is. I have a lot of…freedom, shall we say. What about you?”

Sansa sighed inwardly and sipped her drink before answering. “I’m the low man on the totem pole for an investment company. What’s the name of the company you work for?”

“I sorta work for myself,” he said and then leaned forward and ran a hand across her breastbone. “You’re so beautiful, Alayne. Anyone ever tell you, you could be a model?”

Maybe now they would get somewhere. “You think so?” she asked shyly (gag, gag). 

“I do. You could make a man hard with just a look.”

 _Oh, Jesus. Please don’t tell me I actually have to ask this…_ “Do I make you hard?” she purred. 

“Definitely,” he murmured and leaned in to nuzzle her neck. 

Sansa wanted to throw up. She shut her eyes briefly, gathering strength…and then she felt the room sway. Her eyes popped open and she blinked rapidly. How could she feel this tipsy already? She’d barely had anything to drink. 

_Oh, fuck._

“How do you feel, darlin’?” Ramsay asked against her ear. His breath was hot and Sansa turned her face away. 

_Double fuck._

He drew her back to look at him, a hand under her chin and her vision felt blurred. Her body felt heavy. This was not tipsy over a few sips of beer.

He’d drugged her. 

The thought that it had to be someone tending bar crossed her mind. Someone was working on the inside for Ramsay. What was the plan here exactly? Just to fuck her?

“Three sips in and you’re already tipsy,” Ramsay said with a chuckle. “You’re a cheap date, huh?”

“What did you do?” Sansa slurred. 

He laughed. “I ordered you a drink, that’s all. You did the drinking, sweet thing.” He ran a finger down her arm and Sansa’s limbs were too heavy for her to bat his hands away from her. “What do you say we get out of here and have a little party of our own, huh?”

Sansa managed to push herself out of the booth. Her limbs felt like lead. The room was spinning. She fell to the floor. 

xxxxxxxx

 

“Jaime! Now!”

Jon’s head whipped around and he saw Sandor pushing through the crowd towards where Sansa had gone with her mark. Jaime was already pushing through the crowd and Jon followed, his heart thudding hard in his chest. Something was wrong with Sansa. Was she hurt? Did that creep do something to her? 

He saw her then. The creep had her in his arms and Sansa looked like a rag doll with her head falling back and her arms limp at her sides. It felt like everything moved in slow motion as he hurried to get to her. He saw Sandor come up to them, saw the guy and Sandor exchange a few words. The creep looked pissed. Then Jaime came up and practically yanked Sansa from the creep’s arms. The creep got in Sandor’s face and started shouting and Sandor punched him once. Just once. 

The creep went down like a ton of bricks. 

Jon finally made it through the last bit of people and ran up to them. “What’s wrong with her? What’s happened?”

Jaime looked grimly at him. “Why don’t you tell Sandor that nickname you have for him now?” he said and trudged off towards the exit at the back of the club. 

Jon started to go after him, but Sandor gripped his arm and yanked him back. “Leave,” he grunted. 

“What did that creep do to her? Is she okay? Just let me—”

“Do you want to end up like him?” Sandor asked and pointed to Ramsay, still out cold on the floor. 

“I want to know what happened to Sansa!” Jon didn’t care if he got punched; he wanted answers. He wanted to know what happened to her, if she was going to be okay. 

“What do you think happens to beautiful girls who flirt with fire? They get burned. She’ll be fine; she just needs to sleep it off.” Sandor pushed him back and Jon stumbled back a few feet and watched the man storm to the exit. 

Sleep it off…

She’d been drugged. That had to be it. 

Jon’s jaw clenched and he went after them. They were gone by the time Jon got outside.


	7. Chapter 7

“Jaime?” Sansa murmured weakly. 

“I’m here, love,” Jaime said as he held her on his lap while Sandor drove them to Tyrion’s home. It was a mansion, really, and he had a waterfront view. Jaime knew Tyrion would want to know what happened tonight, plus Sansa needed a place to rest where she wouldn’t have be bothered by too many questions…namely by pouty little puppies who fancied her. 

“He drugged me,” she slurred. 

“I know. You’re safe now,” Jaime said and ran his hand through her hair. “I told you not to take anything from him.”

“I didn’t,” she muttered. “I spilled that drink and he ordered me a new one at the table…from a waitress… It was someone at the bar.” She spoke so quietly Jaime had to strain to hear her.

“Someone from the bar drugged your drink?” he asked with a frown. 

“Yeah. He ordered my drink…but didn’t touch it. I,” she broke off and moaned as though pained. “I took it before he could touch it.”

“Shit.”

“Mmmm…”

Jaime adjusted her on his lap better; she was starting to slip. He moved her so her head was on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her tightly to keep her from slipping. 

“You could lay her down,” Sandor pointed out from the front. 

“Just drive,” Jaime said. Sandor lifted his brows and his mouth twisted into a knowing smirk. Jaime ignored him and looked out the window as though he was just doing his job and taking care of Sansa. Sure he didn’t have to hold her on his lap like this, but he would because that’s what Jaime did. When Sansa lunged into the fray, he was there to make sure she didn’t get hurt. This time she had, and he just hoped Tyrion asked for Bolton’s head on a platter because more than anything, Jaime wanted to do the honors. 

xxxxxx

Jaime carried Sansa through the door and headed immediately down to the guest room where Sansa sometimes slept. Tyrion came padding down the granite tiled floor and his eyes went wide when he saw Jaime carrying Sansa. “What the hell happened?” he demanded. “Was there a fight? A shootout?”

“She was drugged,” Jaime told him and kept going. Tyrion followed, and Sandor followed him. 

At the end of the hall was the bedroom and Jaime kicked the door open, Tyrion flicked the light on and Jaime lay Sansa down on the bed. She moaned and shifted to get comfortable, but it was like her limbs didn’t work right. Her movements were slow and choppy, like it was exhausting for her to just move an inch. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Jaime said as he set about taking Sansa’s sandals off. “That fucker has someone on the inside tending bar. For all we know it could be several someone’s.”

Tyrion held up a hand. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

“I only know what Sansa told me and obviously she’s not in any condition to elaborate,” Jaime said irritably as he attempted to arrange Sansa into a more comfortable position. “It was hard enough for her to get the words out to tell me what he did.”

Tyrion grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed and handed it to Jaime who covered Sansa with it and then sat down beside her and pushed some hair from her face. Jaime told Tyrion about how Sansa had caught Bolton’s eye and the “Jackass” had asked her to dance. He then told his brother about Jon and Sansa meeting him in the hallway, how she’d gotten rid of the drink Bolton had ordered her and how after they secured a table, he’d ordered her a new one from a waitress and how Sansa hadn’t let Bolton even touch it. 

“Sandor saw her fall to the floor in a heap trying to get out of that booth,” Jaime told his brother. 

Tyrion looked at Sandor who nodded. “He picked her up and attempted to carry her off,” Sandor said. “I stopped him. He argued with me, demanding to know who I was. I told him I was a friend of Sansa’s and wasn’t going to allow him to carry her out. He got in my face.”

“What did you do then?” Tyrion asked. 

“I grabbed Sansa from him,” Jaime said.

“And then I punched him,” Sandor said. “He went down.”

Tyrion chuckled. “Of course he did.”

“This isn’t funny,” Jaime snapped. 

“I wasn’t really laughing,” Tyrion said and arched a brow at his brother. “Sandor, call the doctor. We’ll have Sansa checked out and make sure it wasn’t anything more than a roofie in her system.”

Sandor nodded curtly and departed. Tyrion came to stand beside Sansa and ran a hand over her forehead. “Are you in there, baby doll?”

“Don’ call me that,” she muttered.

Tyrion smiled. 

“Do you need anything, love? Do you want anything? Water?” Jaime asked. 

“Water,” she murmured.

Jaime looked at his brother. “You mind?”

Tyrion just looked at him knowingly. “When I get back I want to hear about this Jon person,” he said and left the room to get Sansa water.

“ ‘M fine, Jaime,” she said softly. 

“Just the same, love, I’m going to be right here in case you need anything.” He attempted levity and said, “That’s just the kind of amazing guy I am.”

Sansa grunted at him and Jaime smiled, a soft, gentle, smile that she would no doubt roll her eyes at if she saw it. 

xxxxxxxx

 

Sansa slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw when he did was Jaime curled up on the couch in Tyrion’s spare room, sleeping. The last thing she remembered was falling out of the booth at The Wall in an attempt to get away from Ramsay. She might have had a conversation with Jaime? Perhaps with Tyrion? It was all a haze in her mind. 

“Jaime,” she croaked. 

Jaime snapped awake and looked at her. He sat up. “What’s wrong? What do you need? Are you going to be sick again?”

She blinked and furrowed her brow. “Again?”

“You threw up a couple times.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Do you feel sick?”

“Just tired,” she said. She was on her stomach, a pillow bunched under her head and a blanket on her up to her waist. “And I need to pee.”

She kicked the covers off. “Oh my God. That just wiped me out,” she moaned. “How long is this shit going to stay in my system?”

“That shit is probably actually out of your system by now,” Jaime told her. “But the doctor said you would feel tired and a little out of it for a few days after.”

“Wonderful,” Sansa muttered. “What time is it?”

“The better question is what _day_ is it?”

She sat up and looked at him. “What?”

“You slept the day away yesterday,” he told her. “You woke up a couple times to use the bathroom and throw up.”

“Jesus.”

“Precisely.”

“Ygritte is probably…Jon. Fucking hell. He was there.”

“I called Ygritte. I told her I was your boyfriend and you were staying with me for a couple days. She sounded rather confused, but I didn’t stick around on the phone long enough to field any questions. Who’s Jon, Sansa?”

Sansa sighed and blew the air out of her mouth slowly. “He’s Ygritte’s boyfriend.”

“Is he aware of that? Because I think he might have forgotten.”

“He…I…”

“Spit it out, Sansa.”

“Well you know how this is a small world…?”

Jaime sighed. “Yeah.”

“Well, when I was in Seattle I sort of…slept with him.”

“Christ.”

“It was like a year ago. It was before I came back here for good and took Tyrion up on his offer to work for him.”

“The patient is up!”

Sansa looked over at Tyrion who stood in the doorway. She smiled weakly. “The patient is having difficulty just finding the energy to get to the bathroom.”

Tyrion frowned. “The doctor said that would most likely be the case. You threw up a couple times, you know.”

“I told her,” Jaime said. 

“Jaime held you up,” Tyrion told her. 

Sansa made a face and then looked at Jaime. “I’m sorry.”

He stood and came over to her and ruffled her hair, which earned him a glare. He grinned. “Don’t worry about it, love. However, since you’re not getting up any time soon to use the bathroom, I will. Then you can finish telling me about Jon.”

“Ah, yes. I would like to hear about this guy Jaime keeps calling a puppy as well,” Tyrion said. “But first – how about some food?”

Sansa’s stomach rumbled as if on cue. She looked at him sheepishly. “That sounds fantastic.”

Jaime ambled off to the bathroom that was attached to the guest room and shut the door. Sansa managed to swing her legs off the side of the bed and she looked at Tyrion with a sigh. “I don’t like getting drugged, Tyrion.”

“I don’t like you getting drugged either,” Tyrion said. “We need to talk about what happened, but I think I’ll wait until you’re fed and showered. Sound good?”

“Sounds excellent.”

Tyrion smiled and then said, “Sansa, just so you know? Jaime stayed with you the whole time. He didn’t leave your side once.”

Sansa blinked. “He didn’t?”

“No.”

She sighed heavily. “Well, looks like my days of not taking him seriously are coming to a middle.”

xxxxxxx

Jon was worried and he was trying not to be. When Ygritte sent him a text, freaked out about some stranger who had called her claiming to be Sansa’s boyfriend and that Sansa was staying with him for a couple days, Jon knew that someone had to be either Jaime or Sandor. His money was on Jaime. 

Jon worried for her the way he would anyone in that position. That’s what he told himself anyway. He didn’t know much about getting drugged – had been a roofie or something else much more dangerous? Was she…God, he hoped she wasn’t dead. 

Not for the first time he wondered about this fascination of his for Sansa. Why he was exuding so much energy thinking about someone he’d only spent one night with and had stolen from him? 

Okay, so yes, that was the best sex of his life – and that included the sex he was currently getting from Ygritte – but that wasn’t it. Dany told him he romanticized things too much, and maybe he did, but he had felt there was more happening between them that night than just sex. 

He’d felt a connection.

No, he wasn’t a stranger to one-night stands either. He’d had them, and he’d never felt so… _awake_ and _alive_ as he had with Sansa. He’d never felt a connection to the ones he’d had in the past, and he’d certainly never thought about how he’d visit them. He had been serious when he said that he wanted to see her again. He was rich; he could have made it happen. He’d wanted to. 

He’d been crushed when he’d learned that he’d been duped. How could he have been so wrong about her? How could he have been the only one that felt that connection?

“Jon, I’ve walked by your office three times in the past hour and all three times you have been staring out the window,” Dany said as she came into his office and stood at his desk. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he said. But Dany wasn’t buying it and though the petite woman didn’t look like much, and people were often blinded by her beauty and didn’t think she was a force to be reckoned with, Jon knew better. 

“Bull,” she said, her violet eyes appraising him. “Tell me what’s going on. You’ve been broodier than usual the past couple days.”

Jon sighed. “Dany, really, it’s nothing.”

“Are you having problems with Ygritte?”

His cousin was like a dog with a bone. “No.”

“Then? Is it the deal you’ve been working on? You said you had in the bag, but maybe you don’t. Do you need some—”

“I slept with Ygritte’s roommate in Seattle last year and I just met her again at that stupid barbecue Ygritte had,” Jon blurted out. She wouldn’t stop unless he just told her. 

Dany blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah. And I can’t stop thinking about her. I think she might be in some trouble… no, actually I know she is and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

Dany went to his door and shut it. Most of his staff was gone to lunch, but he supposed it was probably a good idea that no one hear this. She then sat down in the chair across from his desk and gestured for him to continue. 

Jon did. He told her how Sansa had been a waitress at the dinner in Seattle, and skimmed over the bit about sleeping with her. He told her how she’d stolen from him and then how he’d met her again followed her to The Wall on Sunday night. He then told her about everything that happened there. When he finished, he pinched the bridge of his nose and dug the back of his head into the back of his tall chair. “Happy now?”

“Jon,” she began with a sigh. 

Jon pushed away from his desk and got to his feet. “I know, I know. I’m romanticizing again.”

“This woman sounds like trouble,” Dany said. “It sounds like she’s mixed up in something that is very dangerous. I tend to agree with you in that it sounds a bit like the mob. Is that something you really want to tangle yourself up in? You don’t want to be caught in the crossfire of whatever mess she’s in, do you?”

And there it was. Dany telling him what he was going to do in the form of a question. He was supposed to say that no, he didn’t, that he didn’t want to tangle himself up into anything that Sansa was mixed up in. 

The part that wanted to tell her to stop managing him like he wasn’t also her family wanted to tell her to butt out, and that yes, in fact, he did want to tangle himself up in what Sansa was tangled up in because he wanted to tangle himself up in _her_. However, Dany was actually right in this case. It was better that he didn’t get involved. Better that he stayed away and stayed clueless just like Ygritte. 

If only someone could extract Sansa permanently from his mind and stop all thoughts from wandering to her, then he would happily put a pin in all of this. 

When she resurfaced again (and _God_ , he hoped she did), he was going to apologize for showing up at the club and tell her that he would be on his merry way now because he wanted no part of what she was involved in. 

“No,” he told Dany finally. “I don’t.”

She smiled broadly. “Now. Let’s talk numbers.”

_Sansa smirked. “See? I can do banking, too.”_

Goddammit to hell.


	8. Chapter 8

Sansa returned home a few days later, and she returned home on a night in which Jon was over having dinner with Ygritte. When Sansa sheepishly entered the kitchen, looking as fresh and as beautiful as ever, Jon’s gut clenched. He had promised himself – and his cousin – that he would let this little obsession with Sansa go. He would throw himself into his relationship with Ygritte and not pay Sansa any mind. She’d go her way and he’d go his way. 

One look at her though, and all his vows to Dany and himself went right out the window. Relief flooded him at the sight of her. He’d been worried. Ygritte said she had heard from Sansa herself, but Jon had still been worried after having seen her passed out cold at the club. He wanted answers. He wanted to know what she was into, and he wanted to know if she was in danger.

She looked healthy, but Jon figured that she must have spent a few days with…Jaime? Sandor? More questions he had; more answers he wanted. 

“Well, well,” Ygritte said as she looked Sansa over. “She returns from…?”

“My boyfriend’s house,” Sansa said. “Jaime.”

“Where are your things?” Jon asked. 

“Good question,” Ygritte said. 

Jon was sure if Ygritte wasn’t looking right at her, Sansa would have shot him death ray glares. Instead, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans and rocked back on her heels. “I had some clothes at his place,” she said casually. 

“How is this even possible?” Ygritte asked. “I’ve never heard about this Jaime; I’ve never heard about any boyfriend at all, ever, and then you just disappear for a few days with him and apparently have been dating long enough for you to have clothes at his place?”

“You know I’m a private person, Ygritte,” Sansa said. 

Ygritte shook her head and turned her back on Sansa. Sansa just looked at her back as if thinking – _'Did you really just turn your back on me?'_

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ygritte finally said. 

Now Sansa wore an expression of _‘Yeah, that’s what you think.’_ She looked at Jon and her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed, and then she strode off. Jon got the feeling that Sansa was used to being the one doing the dismissing, not the one being dismissed. 

For the rest of dinner, Jon tried to focus on being in the moment with Ygritte and not wondering what Sansa was doing just down the hall in her bedroom. Whenever he heard her shuffle down the hall every part of him was on alert listening for her. 

When he and Ygritte went outside to sit on the deck and have a couple drinks, Ygritte told him in hushed tones how she thought Sansa might be mixed up in something bad. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s a prostitute,” she said. “All the weird hours, the not working during the day – and yet she’s able to get all these clothes and pay me rent.”

“Have you ever asked her?” Jon asked. 

“Yes. She said she tended bar and waitressed at some bar. When I asked her where, she just said ‘downtown’ and then changed the subject. I never asked again because I know she’s a private person and that’s never bothered me before. We’re like ships passing in the night sometimes, and the few times we have been home together we hang out and do stuff, but I never learn anything about her. Before I just figured – okay, that’s fine, she has her life and I have mine and we don’t need to be bff’s or anything, but now? With her having this boyfriend and taking off like that? I don’t like it. I have a bad feeling about it.”

If she only knew, Jon thought. “Well, you don’t want to lose her as a roommate, do you? I mean, you need her to help pay rent, right?”

Ygritte sighed and nodded. Then she grinned and looked over at him. “Who knows what might happen with the way things are going, right?”

Jon had never really fancied himself like most men who feared commitment. The only reason he had never committed to a woman before was because none of them had fit right in his life. He was, he supposed, picky. He wanted to settle in with the right person, not just because he wanted someone there. Most of the time he had preferred _not_ to have someone there. Sex was easy enough to come by, and when he’d scratched the itch, he was fine for a while. He had his work after all, and that took up a lot of his time. 

Things had been going well enough with Ygritte. There were a few things that bothered him about her, but no person was perfect and no relationship was, right? Maybe as he got older and he thought about the fact that one day he’d like to get married and have kids, he was willing to put up with a lot more or at least try to see if the things that irked him were just nitpicky things he could live with, or if they really were deal breakers. 

And then Sansa popped up and her presence had turned everything upside down. It was like muscle memory with his body when he saw her again. His body had reacted to her presence as though it had just been a day since he’d been with her and not a year. 

Sansa, to him, was like an episode of _Lost_. He had all these fucking questions and no goddamn answers. And they kept piling up with every tiny bit of information he did learn.

Here he sat, terrified of what Ygritte was suggesting, and thinking that all he wanted to do was go back inside the house and demand Sansa tell him what the fuck was going on – who was she, really? What did she do? Who were Sandor and Jaime to her? Was she feeling all right? Did she have to take a trip to the hospital? Had she been badly hurt? Did something like that happen often? Was she in some kind of trouble? If so…could he get her out of it?

“Jon? Did I just freak you out?” Ygritte asked. 

_Yes,_ he thought. _I thought I wanted this. I thought I wanted you._

“Ygritte, I’m going to the store for a few things. Do you need anything?” asked the woman that would not leave Jon’s head as she stepped out onto the deck. 

“No, I’m fine,” Ygritte said absently. 

Sansa walked back in the house and Jon jumped to his feet. “I need another beer,” he said hastily and tried not to run into the house. He caught Sansa by the front door, slipping on her shoes. 

“Sansa,” he said as he strode up to her. 

She looked up at him. “Hey, Jon.”

Jon couldn’t seem to stop himself from placing a hand on the side of her face. She looked up at him, startled. “Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. “What did that fucker give you? Were you sick? Has that ever happened to you before?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” she asked with a nervous laugh and circled her hand around his wrist to pull it away. But she didn’t. She just held onto him. 

“Sansa, please, just give me a straight answer here. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m fine. He slipped me a roofie. I was sick, but I was well taken care of, and no, that’s never happened to me before.”

“Are you in some kind of danger?”

She bit her lip and averted her eyes. “Define danger…”

“Sansa, please.”

“I don’t know what the repercussions will be yet for Sandor and Jaime intervening. Or what will happen now that we know what’s going on there…” she shook her head.

“You’re talking in riddles,” he muttered and moved closer until their bodies brushed against each other. 

She stepped back and this time she moved his hand away. “And you have a girlfriend who just happens to be my roommate.”

“Sansa—”

“Good night, Jon,” she said and turned away from him. 

“Come and see me tomorrow at my penthouse.”

With her hand on the door she looked back at him and it looked like she was going to say no, but then she sighed and said, “Fine” before leaving. 

Jon stood there wondering what the fuck he was even doing. He was supposed to have told her he was sorry for showing up at the club and they would now go their separate ways. Instead, he practically begged her to come to him tomorrow. 

With a shake of his head and a muttered curse, he made his way back to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He made his way back out and proceeded to tell an upset Ygritte that he just wasn’t ready to talk about moving in together yet, that it was still too soon, and he just needed some time. 

And then she told him she loved him and Jon thought his head might explode. 

“I know you’re not there yet,” she said. “But I’ll wait. I wanted you to know.”

 _Why?_ He wanted to ask. _Why did you want me to know when I just told you I wasn’t there yet? Are you trying to guilt me into something here?_

No. Ygritte wasn’t like that. Yet it worked just the same. He did feel guilty. Mainly because he couldn’t stop thinking about Sansa and how he was pretty sure his relationship was doomed with the woman that gave him straight answers, wasn’t involved in anything questionable and dangerous, and didn’t want the way he wanted Sansa. 

xxxxxxxxx

 

_J: Wherefore art though, Juliet?_

Sansa smiled at the text that came through from Jaime as she rode the elevator to Jon’s penthouse the following afternoon. Ever since the night she’d been drugged, Jaime had been different with her. He didn’t flirt with her as much, and there was a seriousness in the way he dealt with her. He’d hovered over her like a mother hen until she’d regained her strength back from the after effects of the drug. 

She hadn’t talked to him about it, and she wasn’t sure if she was actually supposed to acknowledge it. She could usually read Jaime fairly well, but he had now thrown her off her game. Tyrion telling her that Jaime hadn’t left her side while she’d been out had made her wonder just how much of his flirting in the past had been serious. She knew Tyrion wouldn’t mind the two of them getting together, but Sansa wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Until the past week, she had never taken him seriously. Now she didn’t know what to think, and Jaime was as forthcoming about his thoughts and feelings as she was. Perhaps they were too much alike. 

Then there was Jon. 

No. There was actually no Jon. Jon was a non-entity despite the fact that she had stupidly agreed to meet with him. She had been all set to say no and then one look in those pleading gray eyes of his and she’d given in. 

Okay, yes, he was hot. And yes, he stirred her blood. Yes, they’d had mind-blowing sex and up until that point Sansa had experienced bad to mediocre sex. Sure he’d unleashed some kind of sex kitten in her, but he was her roommate’s boyfriend and he was trouble. She didn’t trust anyone that made her feel a little bit out of control. 

Quickly, she sent Jaime a text. _I am downtown._

_J: Don’t forget dinner tonight, sweetness._

Sweetness. Before when he’d called her that she had rolled her eyes at him. Now she didn’t know how to take the endearment.

She typed back with a tease. _Aren’t you people tired of me yet?_

_J: Never. Shall I send a car?_

_S: Sure. Outside the Au Bon Pain in an hour?_

_J: You got it._

An innocent enough conversation with only a few questionable moments. Sansa sighed as the elevator dinged and she stepped out into the hall. She just wanted things to go back to normal. 

When she got to Jon’s door she was completely over herself. Was she actually nervous? What the actual fuck? _He’s a puppy_ , she reminded herself. 

And then he opened the door. He was dressed all in black and his gray eyes devoured her. Her pulse kicked up and Sansa thought, _Fuuuuck._

“It’s the man in black,” she joked. _Be calm, Sansa. Be cool._ She sauntered past him as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and hated that she actually felt like some fucking teenager with a crush. 

There was a charge in the air. It had been there last night, too. 

It was the same charge that had been there the night they’d first met. 

She turned to face him and found him practically on top of her. And then his lips were on hers and Sansa forgot to be calm, she forgot to be cool, she forgot everything but the feel of his lips on hers once again.


	9. Chapter 9

Without his lips leaving hers for even a second, Jon picked Sansa up and carried her to his dining room table. It was a flat surface; it would do. He drank deep from her mouth, feeling he would go mad without the taste of her in his mouth, her skin under his hands, and his cock deep inside her. 

“I want you so much,” he muttered against her lips as he began to push her shirt up. “Let me have you, Sansa. Let me have you and get you out of my system, please.”

She tore her lips from his and pushed his hands away from her. Jon thought he was going to perish right there. He started to chase her lips with his own, but she pushed him away and jumped down from the table.

Jon’s hands shook with need and he shut his eyes tight and gripped the top of a nearby dining room chair to steady himself. How did she do it? How did make him lose himself utterly and completely? 

“What are you thinking?” she demanded. 

She wouldn’t look at him and Jon knew she was just as affected as he had been. She had kissed him back after all. He hadn’t been alone in that moment. 

“I’m thinking that I want you so much I can’t see straight,” he said. 

She finally looked at him. “You have a girlfriend. My roommate. Remember?”

“Have you ever wondered why I started dating Ygritte?”

She looked at him in confusion. “I assume you started dating her for the same reasons other people date. You share the same sorts of interests and you found her attractive.”

Jon pushed away from the chair and made his way over to her. She looked at him warningly, and he worried for half a second that she might do him bodily harm. He stopped just shy of touching her, though his hands itched to do so. “She has red hair,” he said. 

Sansa blinked. “And you have black hair.”

“Sansa,” he said and reached out to lift a strand of her hair. “Your hair is red.”

“It’s auburn.”

His eyes bore into her. “Close enough.”

“So what are you saying? You started dating her because of me?”

“I think so. I was thinking about it last night—”

“Stop thinking so much.”

“I’m not alone in this, am I? You want me too. Tell me that you felt it that night, that there was a connection between us.”

“You’re romanticizing a one night stand.”

He snorted. “Where have I heard that before?”

“I don’t know. Where?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m curious though. Do you often do this – romanticize a one night stand? And Jesus, if so, how many have you had?”

He smirked. “Jealous?”

It was her turn to snort. “Hardly.” She started to turn away from him, but Jon reached out and pulled her to him, her back to his front. He nipped at her ear and smiled when she shivered. “Tell me you felt it too. Tell me I wasn’t alone in feeling that connection,” he said huskily against her ear as his arms snaked around her waist. 

“It doesn’t matter what I felt. Do you remember that I also stole from you?”

“My pride and my dignity, apparently,” he said with a hoarse laugh. “I’m not above begging to have you.”

“You have a girlfriend,” she said and shivered again when Jon nipped lightly at her neck and then nuzzled her there. 

“I’ll end it,” he said simply. 

“Ygritte is crazy about you.” 

Jon stopped nuzzling her neck. His arms went lax. He groaned and buried his face in her hair. Sansa pushed out of his arms and turned to look at him. 

“I do want you,” he told her. “I don’t just think I do.”

“Your ego was bruised and you want to prove something.”

“Yes, I want to prove that I wasn’t alone in feeling something that night. Sansa, I was ready to make plans to see you again. When I said I would fly you out to me, and that I would fly out to you? I meant that.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Jon…”

“I’ve never wanted anyone like this. Seeing you again…it was like I was sleeping and you woke me up. For the _second_ time. The first being that night in Seattle.”

“It’s not me you actually want. It wasn’t even me that night.”

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. You were Alayne Stone.”

“Not just that. I meant it when I said I’d never had a one-night stand before. And the sex kitten that I turned into?”

“Sex Goddess more like.”

“That’s not me.”

He moved closer to her and trailed a hand down her bare arm. “So you’re saying I brought it out in you?”

“Yes, but it’s not real. I’m not what you think.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“I don’t do relationships.”

“That must get lonely.”

She arched a brow. “I don’t get the sense that you do them very often either.”

“I don’t. I’ve never really found anyone I’ve wanted to settle down with.”

“What about Ygritte? You’ve been with her for a while.”

He met her gaze straight on. “And I want her roommate.”

“You don’t. Not really. You want a fantasy. You want that sex goddess. I’m not really that. You’ll be disappointed and you’ll end up hating me because I’ll just hurt you.”

“How Sansa? How would you hurt me?”

“Because I’m crap at relationships. I’m not really into letting people close and I’m not into being friends with benefits either. What you like and want about me is the mystery. You like that you can’t figure me out and you like the hunt. I’m not doing it by design, Jon. There are parts of my life that I keep close to my chest because I have to.”

“Like what you were doing at that club with that guy that drugged you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you part of the mob, Sansa?”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “What if I said yes? What if I said I’ve seen the evil that people can do? What if I said I’ve been surrounded by death and I’ve even helped cause it? Would you still want me then?”

He hesitated, and that was all Sansa needed. Admittedly though, it hurt more than she’d thought it would. It was for the best though because really, she and relationships didn’t go to together. Plus, he was taken and by someone that she cared about and liked. 

“See?” she said softly. “You want a fantasy.”

“Sansa, you can’t just expect me to have an answer at the ready when you spring something like that on me. You have to give me a minute—”

“No, I don’t. Because it doesn’t matter. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s not going to happen, Jon. Ygritte is a wonderful person and she likes you so much. Be with her.”

“Are you part of the mob, Sansa?” he asked again. 

“Maybe.”

“Goddammit, Sansa,” he growled. 

“Look, I’m fine. I’m alive. Jaime and Sandor won’t let anything happen to me. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been taking care of myself for a really long time. Focus on Ygritte and forget about me and what we did before—”

“That’s impossible. You’re in my gut—”

“Get over it.”

He looked pissed now. Good. If he was pissed then he would ultimately decide to wash his hands of her. 

“Goodbye, Jon,” she said and he didn’t move as she made her way to the door and then slipped out. 

xxxxxxx

Sansa felt out of sorts by the time she arrived at the Lannisters for their family dinner. She should have just stayed a few days longer, she thought. Then perhaps she wouldn’t have seen Jon last night and agreed to see him today. He’d unsettled her. No one had ever wanted her that much before. However, she knew that she was right in turning him away. She didn’t do relationships and she knew how much Ygritte liked him – shit, _loved_ him. She might be her version of close to her roommate, but she wasn’t so heartless as to take Jon away from her. 

When she arrived at Tyrion’s, it was Sandor who greeted her at the door. He nodded to her. “Feel all right?”

“Right as rain,” she told him. 

He nodded again and headed to the kitchen. Sansa followed him. He continued on to the deck with the fancy wrought iron table and chairs, and the sparkling blue in-ground pool. Sansa stopped at the spacious kitchen with all modern appliances and white washed cabinets. Sansa liked to joke that the kitchen was where sleek met shabby chic. 

One wouldn’t think Jaime Lannister could cook, or that he would enjoy it, but he did. And he was amazing at it. The delicious aroma in the kitchen caused Sansa’s belly to rumble. Jaime was bent over a sauce pan, stirring nonstop and when he saw her he waved her over to him with a smile. She came over and peered into the sauce pan. A white thick liquid was inside. She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Please tell me that is your cheese sauce.”

“It’s my cheese sauce.”

“Fuck yes. Can I just stick my face in there?”

Jaime laughed and surprised her by running a hand down her back before answering with a simple, low, “No.”

“Oh. You’re here.”

Sansa rolled her eyes at the sound of Cersei’s voice, despite the fact that she was glad the woman had interrupted when she did. Things were getting awkward in the kitchen. 

Sansa turned and put on a fake smile. “Hello, Cersei.” She pointed at her. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping during the day?”

Cersei shot her a withering look, grabbed a bottle of wine off the counter, and sauntered off to the deck. 

“Did she seriously just take the whole bottle with her?” Sansa asked. 

“She sure did.”

“It must be nice to live off your brother the way she does,” Sansa mused. “And yet she still treats him like shit.” Sansa frowned and picked up a raw piece of broccoli on a plate on the island in the middle of the kitchen. 

“She’s never been a particularly happy person,” Jaime murmured. 

“Did some feller do her wrong?” Sansa asked and batted her lashes in exaggeration. 

“You could say that.”

“Come on, tell me what happened,” Sansa said and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “And where is himself, by the way?”

“I’m assuming you mean, Tryion.”

“Of course.”

“He’s taking care of some business.”

Sansa nodded and let that one go. Taking care of business for Tyrion could mean any number of things from sending someone out to collect money for him to setting up a beating or a hit. 

“So, tell me what I can do to help,” she said. 

Jaime just looked at her thoughtfully and then moved the saucepan off the burner and onto a hot plate. He looked at her for a beat and then without a word came up to her and kissed her. He’d surprised her, just as Jon had. However, while it hadn’t been a surprise to feel something when Jon kissed her, it was a surprise to feel something when Jaime did. 

_Does it make me slutty to have kissed two different men in one day?_ she wondered. She pushed at him, her hands on his chest. He didn’t go far though. 

“Surely you knew that was coming,” he said. 

“I never really know what to expect with you, Jaime.”

He smiled gently. “And isn’t that what makes us so perfect for one another? I never know what to expect from you, either.”

“I’m not sure us being alike is a plus…”

“We understand each other, Sansa. I’d never ask for more than you’re willing to give and I know it would be the same of you with me.”

That was true. Jon would ask for everything. Jaime, she felt, was just as broken in some way. He wouldn’t ask for much. There was comfort in that. So then why did she feel that there was something wrong with it?


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing Jon did when he arrived at work the following morning was see Dany. She was in her office, sipping a latte, and looking as imperial as ever as she took in the morning news on one television screen, and the Dow on the other. 

She smiled when she saw Jon, her blue eyes lighting up in a way Jon was sure most of her employers did not see. She was a fair boss, but she was a task master, and she let it known that she had high standards and expected them to be met. 

If only the people that worked for them knew how she’d fall to pieces every time he told her she couldn’t play with him and his friends when they were growing up. In some weird way he liked to think he helped mold his cousin into the powerful and successful woman she was today. 

“Jon! What a surprise first thing in the—”

“I want to hire one of your private detectives to investigate someone,” he said. 

Dany blinked at him. “Pardon?”

“I want to hire one of your—”

“Jon. What is this about? A client?”

Jon sighed. 

Dany sighed, too. “It’s that woman.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“I thought we talked about this.” She pursed her lips together and looked at him with an expression that meant she was disappointed in him. If it was anyone else, no doubt they would have been cowed. Jon was not.

“To be fair you did most of the talking,” he said. 

“Jon.”

“Dany, I need to… _sate_ my curiosity about her so that I can let her go.”

“I don’t think it’s your curiosity that needs sating,” she said dryly. 

“Be that as it may, I want her investigated. I need to know what I’m dealing with here.”

Dany cocked her head to the side. “And what exactly is it you think you need to deal with? You had a one night stand with this woman. She wasn’t your girlfriend. If I remember correctly, you do have a girlfriend now and I’m pretty sure that if she discovered this…this _fascination_ you have with her roommate, you would cease to have said girlfriend.”

“I don’t think I can see Ygritte any longer. The twisted thing is, and the thing that probably makes me a complete ass is that if I break up with Ygritte, I won’t have access to Sansa. I need to have access to Sansa.”

“Need? You _need_ it?” She laughed without humor. “No, Jon, you don’t need to have access to her. You just want to.”

“I can’t get her out of my head, Dany. She came to see me yesterday and I nearly took her on the dining room table.”

“Why did she come to see you?”

“I asked her to. I needed to know if she was all right after she’d been drugged. I wanted to be…close to her.”

Dany sighed and regarded him thoughtfully. “I do not think you’d be happy once you got this woman. I think you’ve built her up in your mind – you have always been a romantic, Jon.”

“I am not,” he said sullenly. 

She laughed, her head going back. “Yes, you are. And now I fear you’ve done the same with this Sansa. You’ve built her up as something exotic and rare – what will you do when you discover there isn’t much to her? Or that her lifestyle is dangerous and it would be safer for you to stay far, far away?”

“Then I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, but I need to know.” His cousin sighed and shook her head as though she was just so disappointed in him and Jon snapped. He was so tired of being _managed_ by the women in his life. He was not only Dany’s cousin, but he also helped manage her empire so he was no stranger to her telling him what to do in his personal and professional life. Ygritte liked to tell him how to manage his personal and professional life better, and then preyed on the fact that he didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by telling him she loved him. Part of him wondered if that was an attempt to guilt him into agreeing to move in together. 

And then there was Sansa. 

Sansa who blew into his life like the Tazmanian Devil, making him feel things he didn’t think he’d ever feel – things he didn’t think he was _capable_ of feeling – and then blew right out of it stealing not only his money but some dignity too. And now, here he was, begging his cousin for access to her dirty little private investigators so he could somehow get a handle on Sansa. He could hold Sansa in his arms when she allowed him to, but he couldn’t get a _grip_ on her, on who she was. Jon liked all the pieces in his world to fit, and when they didn’t he would discard them. With Sansa, he couldn’t. He wanted to _make_ her fit in his world. The problem was, according to Sansa, _he_ didn’t fit in _hers_. He needed to know why so that he could fix it. 

“I don’t ask for much, Dany,” Jon said, his temper flaring. “I do what you ask of me and I often go above and beyond.”

“This isn’t about what you do for me in your work, Jon,” she said. “This is about the fact that you are my family and I love you and don’t want to see you throw something away that could make you very happy if you’d just give it a chance, over something that has the potential to ruin your life. And all because you love the hunt.”

“It’s more than that with Sansa.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Will you put me in touch with them or not?”

Dany sighed. “I’ve already been in touch with them regarding her.”

Jon blinked. “What?”

“I saw it in your eyes the last time we spoke about her. You had that look of an enamored man. I recognized that same look in Drogo’s when we met. I knew you wouldn’t give up so easily on her and so I decided to see what I could find out about her. I should have a report in a few days.”

Jon wasn’t sure how he felt about this. It felt a lot like being managed again. He also wondered how Sansa would feel knowing she was being investigated. She’d be pissed. It was an intrusion into her life, a breach of her privacy. 

But it would give him the answers she wouldn’t and that was almost as seductive as Sansa herself. 

xxxxxxxx

The note Ygritte had left her that morning made Sansa nervous. Her roommate “wanted to talk”. Sansa had a feeling her disappearing act had not gone over well – not that she had been in any frame of mind to do much about that – and Ygritte was a bit freaked out by the whole thing. 

Ygritte claimed to be a live and let live type, but what that really meant was that she let others live freely and without judgment as long as it fell in line with how Ygritte lived her life. Sansa had a feeling their earlier agreement that Ygritte wouldn’t ask and Sansa wouldn’t tell regarding Sansa’s life, had come to an end. 

So, Sansa spent the day cleaning the apartment and then made sure to order from Ygritte’s favorite Chinese food restaurant. She had the food delivered about the time Ygritte was due home. She even set the table for the both of them and poured some wine. 

A little sucking up never hurt, right?

When Ygritte came home, she was pleased to find the apartment so clean (not that they were slobs, but sometimes dishes had a tendency to pile up in the living room and kitchen sink), and that dinner was waiting for her. 

Not one to really beat around the bush, Ygritte confirmed Sansa’s fear: she wanted Sansa to move out. 

“It’s because I was gone for a few days, wasn’t it?” Sansa asked. 

“Well, there is that. I mean, some random guy calls and says he’s your boyfriend, Sansa. You didn’t call at all…it got me wondering what exactly it was you were up to. I was okay with our arrangement until then, but it got me thinking about how little I actually know you. And when I ask you change the subject.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes and studied her roommate. “There’s something else that’s up. What is it?”

Ygritte sighed. “I want to take things to the next level with Jon. I love him, and I want a future with him. I’m afraid he sees me as a half-formed adult because I still have a roommate. I mean, if you saw the palace he lives in!”

Sansa almost wanted to tell Ygritte she had because she was pissed that she was getting the heave-ho for a dude that practically had her on his dining room table the day before. On the other hand, that meant Jon wouldn’t be able to find her and corner her and ask questions and be up her ass.

_He would no longer be up her ass._

Oh. Well, fuck. She hadn’t expected that to bother her. 

“I’m not saying you have to move out tomorrow,” Ygritte said. “Just by the beginning of next month? If you can’t find a place I’m not going to make you leave…”

“It’s not a problem,” Sansa said. “I can find a place.” _Tyrion will find me a place. I might even move in there while I’m looking…_

“I’m sorry, Sansa. Do you hate me?”

“No, I don’t. I get it.” The thing was, she really did get it, too. She’d listened to her roommate gush over Jon more than once over the past couple months. Ygritte was totally gone for him and she wanted to see where their relationship could lead. If anything, Sansa just felt guilty because of the kisses that she and Jon had shared since they’d re-met. 

No, this would be good. She’d move out and disappear from Jon’s sphere completely and he’d realize he was really better off with Ygritte. Ygritte was a fully formed adult, and Sansa wasn’t.


	11. Chapter 11

“So, I need a place to live,” Sansa told Tyrion the following afternoon. He’d requested her presence at the mansion to go over some business, and Sansa figured it was a good time to put it out there that she needed a new home. 

“Oh?” Jaime said as he sat down next to her on the couch in the living room.

Sansa glanced sideways at him, ignoring the hopeful note to his tone. Perhaps crashing at Casa de Lannister for a while wasn’t such a great idea after all. 

Tyrion’s brow furrowed. “You’re being kicked out?”

“Yes. Ygritte has decided that having a roommate makes her look like a fetus to her boyfriend. She’s thinking if I move out, she’ll look more like an adult or some crap like that,” Sansa said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Or she’s really just hoping it will drop a big hint that she’s living alone and he’s living alone…” Jaime suggested. “Her boyfriend is the puppy that was at the club, right?”

“Yep,” Sansa said, popping the ‘p’. 

“So, she has no clue that he’s salivating over you, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Well, that works out well then,” Jaime said. 

Sansa looked at him incredulously. “How do you figure?”

Jaime shrugged. “He won’t be sniffing around.” He looked at Tyrion. “Tell her she can just stay with us. She _does_ have a room already.”

“I can afford a place of my own, Jaime,” she told him. She looked at Tyrion. “Tell him I can afford a place of my own.”

Tyrion just looked amused. “And here I thought you two would be the perfect match,” he mused. “But there is something decidedly brotherly and sisterly about the way you two communicate.”

“It’s his fault,” Sansa said quickly.

Jaime chuckled and grinned fondly at her. Sansa tried not to smile, but she couldn’t help it. “Anyway,” she said. “If you know of a place, that’d be great.”

“I will find you a place to live,” Tyrion assured her. Then he sighed and picked up a file that was beside him on an end table. 

“What’s that?” Sansa asked. 

“Your file.”

Her eyes widened. “My _file_?”

“Yes, you recall that I like to do a thorough investigation on everyone I do business with.”

Sansa looked at it, her head cocked to the side. “I expected it to be thicker.”

“Consider it a good thing that it’s not,” Tyrion said. “I picked it up recently though for a couple reasons.”

“Shit, what did I do?” Sansa asked. 

Tyrion smiled. “Nothing. But a name has come up recently that made me think of your file.”

Sansa’s brow furrowed. “What name?”

“Petyr Baelish.”

Sansa shivered and made a face. “Why has that name come up?”

“We have reason to believe he’s in charge of Ramsay Bolton and what happened at the club.”

“Exactly how?” Sansa asked. Her skin was crawling, the way it always did when Petyr was mentioned. 

“He may be the one behind the escort service Ramsay was trying to drum up business for.”

Sansa made a face. “That doesn’t surprise me. He’s a fucking creep and a perv.”

“He is your uncle?”

“No, God no. Not by blood. He was some friend of my mother’s family and we called him – my siblings and I – Uncle Petyr, but that man is not my true uncle. He tried to take me in after…” she heaved a sigh. She hated to talk about the accident that claimed her older brother Robb, her father and her mother’s life and left her, Arya, Bran and Rickon orphans. She cleared her throat. “He tried to take me in after. We had no other family left, just my grandparents and they had one foot in the grave. He didn’t want anyone but me.”

“Sansa, did he…?” Jaime asked softly. 

“He didn’t rape me. But he…” she sighed heavily. “He made it clear that he wanted me.”

“So, we can kill him, right?” Jaime asked Tyrion. “I’d like to do the honors.”

“Before that happens we have to draw him out,” Tyrion said slowly. “He may be working alone or he may be working for someone else…”

Sansa looked at Tyrion, her jaw clenched. “Let me guess. You want me to be the one to draw him out. You want me to be bait for that piece of shit.”

Tyrion sighed. “Yes.”

And this was the part that Sansa hated about this life. For all that Tyrion said she was family and for all that he did look out for her, he still had a business to run and that meant that everyone played a part whether they wanted to or not. Mobsters weren’t always exactly known for being the good guys – it wasn’t a good guy business. And Sansa knew that, even accepted it on some level. But this? 

What she hadn’t told Tyrion was that Petyr had tried to rape her. It had been two days before she’d turned eighteen, two days before she was free of him and his creepy stares and innuendos. 

He’d attacked her, pushed her to the floor and…and she’d gotten away and never looked back. No one in the system would have cared what she had to say about him, but she had warned the family Arya was with, and the one that Bran and Rickon were with. They’d promised to protect them. 

Sansa knew though, that Petyr wouldn’t go after them. He never looked at them the way he did her. She had always been afraid to be alone with Petyr and when she was put in his care, she found out why. The hard way. 

It was something she had never told anyone. She had put that part of her past behind her and didn’t dare look back. It was his shame, not hers. At least that’s what she’d told herself. Still, some part of her was shamed…and now Tyrion wanted her to draw him out. 

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s the one behind it all,” Sansa said. “Sounds like him.”

“If you don’t want to do it…” Tyrion began. 

“What’s your endgame here?” Sansa asked. 

“To find out what kind of business he’s running here. Despite the fact that I’m not exactly the epitome of ‘upstanding citizen’, he’s in my territory and possibly doing things that are exploiting women – evidenced by how Bolton drugged you. You were probably not the first. I don’t want that shit going on in my area. We are not a brothel.”

“Will you drive him out, or will you kill him?” Sansa asked. 

“That depends.”

“On?”

“What you want to do.”

“I want him gone,” she said. She glanced at Jaime. “And I want the honors.”

“Done,” Tyrion said. “For a minute though, I would like to move onto something else.”

“Please,” Sansa sighed. 

“As you know I have quite a few contacts, a few from the actual upstanding citizens. Seemingly upstanding anyway.”

Sansa nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, one of them has been in touch with Willas about an investigation.”

Sansa arched a brow. “So?”

“The investigation was on you. He thought I should know who had requested the investigation.”

“Don’t tell me it was Petyr,” Sansa said and felt her stomach turn over. 

“No. It was Daenerys Targaryen. Curious about why she would possibly be wanting information about you, I did a little digging and discovered the reason. The puppy? Jon Snow? He’s her cousin.”

Sansa’s jaw dropped. So did Jaime’s. 

“Are you saying that she requested information for him?” Sansa asked. 

“When I spoke with her this morning, he did ask for information on you, yes. But she asked for it before he did. I told her that you were an associate of mine and any information she wanted on you, she would have to ask you directly. She wasn’t getting anything from Willas.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Sansa muttered. 

“I would ask that you leave Daenerys out of it. I’ve dealt with her. You can deal with this…puppy…as you see fit.”

“So, you do stuff for her? Or vice versa?” Sansa asked. 

“Her late husband and I had some dealings. She…uh, ‘inherited’ some of the shadier aspects of the business when she took control over the company after he died. I’m part of those shadier dealings. I would say we work independently mostly, but sometimes our paths do cross.”

“Is Jon aware of this?”

“I doubt it. If he is, he has no part of it.”

Jaime sighed. “Just when I thought we were rid of him.”

Sansa jumped up. “Could I have the car take me to his office? I’m sure the little menace is at work now.”

Tyrion smiled. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure about this chapter...if it makes sense now that it's out on "paper". Please let me know what you think...


	12. Chapter 12

Jon was looking over some emails when his phone buzzed. He sighed and pressed the intercom button. “Yes?”

“There is someone here to see you, Mr. Snow.”

Jon frowned. God, he hoped it wasn’t Ygritte. He didn’t want to break up with her in his office. “Who is it?”

“Well, the thing is, Mr. Snow, she won’t tell me her name and –” He frowned when he heard what sounded like the phone being fumbled about and was just about to hang up when he heard _her_ voice, “Your worst. Fucking. Nightmare.” He smiled broadly and breathed, “Sansa.”

He hung up the phone quickly and practically ran out of his office and down to the elevators. He pressed the button for all three that were there and he paced, waiting. He was about to say fuck it, he’d take the stairs, when one dinged open. 

“Please hold the elevator!” someone shouted just as the doors started to close. Jon cursed under his breath and stopped the doors from shutting. He peered out and found… Ben. Ben? Jon thought it might be Ben. From accounting. He was carrying a stack of papers and as if he was in some kind of fucking Rom Com, fucking Ben sent the papers sailing to the floor. 

Jon considered leaving Ben to pick up the mess alone and just leaving to go see Sansa. But, he didn’t. He forced himself out of the elevator and helped Ben pick up the stray papers. Then he watched as other people got on his elevator and then he and Ben had to wait for the next one. 

Jon thought he might leap out of his skin. He just wanted to see Sansa. 

Finally, they got on the elevator and Jon barely paid any attention to Ben thanking him profusely for helping. He practically leapt out of the elevator and into the lobby. His heart was racing; he felt like a teenage boy with his first crush. 

He found Sansa leaning over the receptionist’s desk. The receptionist, Bette, did not look thrilled.

“Well, what does that button do?” he heard Sansa ask. Bette answered her. Sansa pointed to another one. “And that one?” Jon thought Bette might throttle her. 

“Sansa,” he said. 

She looked up and just like that Jon’s breath caught in his throat. Goddammit she was beautiful. And then her eyes narrowed. 

Jon reached out and put his hand on her arm. Every time he was close to her he wanted to be touching her. “You came to see me,” he said stupidly.

“Is there somewhere we could talk? Alone?”

“Yes,” he said. “My office—”

“How private is it?”

Jon inched closer to her. For fuck’s sake, he was practically panting. “Very,” he said on a rumble. 

“Are you sure? Because I’m going to rip your head off and shove it up your ass so I want to make sure it’s really private.”

Jon sighed. “You’re upset with me.”

“I’m not sure why you’d need to hire a private investigator, Jon. You seem to be able to figure things out just fine on your own,” she said pointedly, one brow arched. 

He kept his expression neutral even though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how she found out about that. Fucking hell. 

His hand curled around her arm. “Come on; let’s go outside.”

She yanked her arm from his grasp. Jon glanced down at Bette who was watching them as though they were her favorite form of entertainment. Jon gestured to the doors behind Sansa. “Shall we?”

With her jaw clenched tight, she spun and stormed out of the building. Jon kept his gaze from straying to her ass. It was the least he could do with how pissed she was at him. 

She turned and faced him once they were outside, her pony tail whipping around behind her. “Where to now?”

“Follow me,” he said and led her to the side of the building where there was a path that led down to a view of the ocean and a couple park benches. There was even a tree with some flowers around it. It was pretty nice as far as a pseudo-alley could get. 

Halfway down the path, Sansa stopped and said, “Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?”

Jon turned and faced her. “Sansa—”

“You wanted to have me investigated? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“How did you find out?”

“It doesn’t matter how I found out. That was a serious violation of my privacy. You had no right—”

“You won’t tell me anything about you!” he shouted. “You won’t even tell me how you found out about it! I can’t get anything out of you, Sansa!”

“Normal people would take the fucking hint! Why can’t you?”

“You know why,” he said darkly. 

“Oh, right. Because you think you want me.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say that like you think I don’t know my own mind. I do want you, Sansa.”

“Well, I don’t want you.”

Jon felt that like a slap. He shook his head. “You don’t meant that. I know you do. The way you kissed me last time—”

“You caught me off guard, that’s all that was. You pounced on me as soon as you answered the door for crying out loud.”

He shook his head again. “No.” He marched over to her while saying, “And I’ll prove it.” Putting his hand at the back of her head, he brought her in for a kiss and captured her lips with his. He groaned and wrapped one arm around her while pushing her back to the wall beside them. Her purse that had been draped over her shoulder fell to the ground. He wasn’t ever going to stop kissing her; not if he could help it. 

Sansa stopped him though. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him back. She ducked her head and then shook it.

Jon slid the hand that had been at the back of her head to her chin and lifted it so she was looking at him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it…I’m sorry. I was desperate. I can’t think straight when it comes to you.”

“How would you feel if I’d done the same to you? Delved into your history without telling you?”

He dropped his hand from her chin, but he stayed close. “Anything you want to know about me I can tell you. You just have to ask. I ask you, Sansa, but you don’t tell me anything. You won’t even tell me how you found out—”

“Do you know anyone by the name of Tyrion Lannister?” she asked. 

Jon frowned. “That name sounds somewhat familiar…”

“Well, apparently your cousin and Tyrion know each other. The investigator your cousin hired works for Tyrion. He told Tyrion your cousin wanted intel on me and Tyrion put a stop to it. He called your cousin to see what was up and she told him that you had requested the information, but that she had started the proceedings before you even asked.”

“Who is Tyrion exactly? I feel like maybe I met him at Drogo’s funeral…”

“He’s…he’s a mobster, Jon.”

Jon sighed “I see.”

“He’s my boss.”

“So you are in the mafia.” 

“Yes. Are you satisfied now? That’s my big secret. Are we done here?”

Jon shook his head. “No.” And he kissed her again. “I want more,” he muttered against her lips. “I want to know everything about you.”

She put her hand on his shoulder to hold him back. “That sounds dangerously close to wanting more than sex.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Ygritte?”

He sighed and hung his head. “I’m ending it. I can’t be with her and want you.”

“You – but – I’m – oh, Christ,” Sansa muttered and pushed away from him. 

“What?” Jon asked as he watched her pick up her purse from the ground and then dig inside for something. “Sansa?”

She extracted a manila file folder and thrust it out to him. He looked at it and then her. “What is that?”

“My file. Everything you would have found out had your cousin managed to get the information you both wanted.”

He shook his head and stepped back. “No, I don’t want it.”

She sighed and dropped her arm. “What do you mean you don’t want it?”

“I don’t need to read a file when you’re here, and I’m soon to be free. You can just tell me what I want I want to know – and at your own pace—”

“I want you to read it.”

“Why?”

“Because this is me giving you the information freely. There are things in there I don’t like to think about much less talk about. And if you read it, you might change your mind and stay with Ygritte. She’s a much healthier, much better option for you.”

Jon shook his head. “I’m not going to change my mind about you, Sansa.”

“Just read it? Please?” She held it out to him again. 

He sighed and nodded and took it from her. “Fine. I’ll read it.”

“Just do me a favor?”

“What?”

“When you’re coming to a decision, try not to think with your dick. We had fantastic sex that night, but the reality is it probably wouldn’t always be like that. Try to keep that in mind?”

“You excite me just standing here with you,” he told her. When she didn’t reply, Jon raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “Will you be around? When I end things with Ygritte, how will I see you?”

“Read the file first, and then decide.”

“Sansa, just answer me. How will I see you—”

“I’ll find you.”

“Give me your number.”

“No. If it got into the wrong hands…Not even Ygritte has my cell. I’ll get in touch with you.”

Jon was trying to be okay with this. He didn’t trust her to not just disappear on him. He held out his hand. “Come here.”

To his surprise she came closer, and when she was close enough he pulled her to him, leaned down, and kissed her. “Don’t disappear on me,” he whispered. “Promise me you won’t.”

“I won’t.”

She slipped away from him then and as Jon watched her go he wanted more than anything to believe she would keep her promise. But he didn’t. He had a feeling her promises were as elusive as the woman herself.


	13. Chapter 13

The file Sansa gave Jon laid in his desk under some other files all afternoon. Sure she had given it to him to read, and yes he had even requested the information before this, but now that he was in possession of it he wasn’t sure he wanted to read it. Not because he was afraid of reading it. Not because he feared what was inside. Whatever it was, she seemed pretty sure that he would be done with her over it. Jon didn’t have that fear. 

He wanted Sansa to tell him about her life. He wanted to her to share herself with him because that’s what people who dated did. He wanted to have those bonding moments with Sansa where she opened up to him of her own volition. 

A file could tell him the basics, but only Sansa could fill in the gaps. 

He brought it home with him and left it on his nightstand while he changed for dinner with Ygritte. She was having him over again, something about a surprise she had for him. He had one for her, too, and he was dreading it. He wondered if she was the sort to make a big scene, and Christ he hoped she wasn’t.

He also wondered if Sansa was going to be around. He had a funny feeling she wasn’t because she hadn’t mentioned anything about him coming over that afternoon. 

When Jon was changed – jeans, crisp button down shirt and boots – he made his way over to Ygritte’s and tried to figure out exactly what he was going to say and when. Before dinner or after?

Probably before. It might be cruel to be sitting on the fact that he was breaking up with her all the way through a romantic dinner for two. Ygritte was happy to see him, which didn’t help matters, and she planted a big wet kiss on him, too. 

“I love this wine!” Ygritte said happily as she made her way to the kitchen with Jon following behind her. “And you got such a big bottle.” She placed the bottle on the counter and turned to him with a grin. “Trying to get me drunk?”

“Well, I thought a big bottle of wine was the least I could do,” Jon muttered. “So, I need to say something—”

“So guess what?”

Jon blinked and looked at her. “What?”

“Pretty soon, I am going to have this place all to myself!”

Jon stared at her. “Wh-what?”

She nodded and leaned a hip against the counter. “I asked Sansa to move out. I figured it was time I lived alone. There isn’t any reason why”—”

“Where is she now?” Jon asked. “When did you ask her to go?”

“Last night,” Ygritte said with a frown. “I don’t know where she is now. She knew you were coming over.”

“Yeah, she did,” Jon muttered. She knew this afternoon that she was moving out and she’d never even bothered to tell him. Did that mean she was in fact going to disappear on him?

“What?” 

“Nothing.”

“You okay?”

“When is she going?”

“I told her by the beginning of next month I’d like to have her gone, but she told me she might have a place to go before then. Jon, are you okay?”

Jon sighed. All he wanted to do was get this over with now. If he wanted to prove himself to be a real asshole he could wait until Sansa was well and truly moved out before he did just on the off chance he could see her again. He didn’t want to be that guy though. And he would find Sansa one way or another. He knew the name of her boss and he knew someone that had a connection to him. 

He looked at Ygritte. “We need to talk.”

xxxxxxxx

Sansa sat by the pool at Tyrion’s. She was seated at the end of a lounge chair, staring into the water and sipping a beer. She, Jaime, and Tyrion had just had a meeting about Petyr. It was not her favorite meeting. 

“We need to find out other places where Ramsay may have hit,” Tyrion had said. “I have some men out there now, seeing what they can find. There have to be others working for him, so hopefully they’ll be able to find that out too. Sansa, what do you think would be the best method for drawing Petyr out?”

Unfortunately, Sansa felt the direct method of putting herself right out there was the best. Sansa had a funny feeling if Petyr knew she was around, he wouldn’t hesitate to make himself known. The very idea made her skin crawl. 

Now, as she sat here, trying not think about Petyr and instead thinking about Jon and how right about now he was probably discovering Ygritte had kicked her out, Sansa wondered if he had read her file. She wondered what he thought if he had. She wasn’t proud of all the things she’d done, but it had all been in the name of survival. 

An orphan at 17, homeless by 18, then a thief and a stint as a pot dealer just to get a roof over her head. Yeah, she was no great shakes. Was it her fault if being a petty thief and working for the mob earned her more money than some minimum wage job ever could? She had once told herself that she wanted to earn enough to one day buy a house and have Rickon and Bran come live with her – and Arya, if Arya ever wanted to. But she knew that would never happen. Rickon and Bran had a family now. They were happy. Sansa wasn’t going to fuck that up for them. 

“How are you doing?” Jaime asked as he took the chair next to her. 

Sansa shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. This Baelish character sets your teeth on edge.”

“He’s scum of the first order, no doubt about that. But you gotta do what you gotta do, right? And I gotta draw him out.”

“Sandor and I will be close by.”

“I know.”

“So, what happened with what’s-his-face again?”

Sansa shook her head and smiled softly in amusement. “Jon.”

“Did you send him packing?”

“In a manner of speaking.” She looked over at him. “Worried?”

“Well, yeah. It doesn’t really help my case if this Jon guy is my competition.”

“Do you even actually have a case?”

“I do,” Jaime said with a nod. “We both work for Tyrion. We both know we’re not designed for the so-called normal relationships that other people get to have because of what we do, and if I’m not mistaken we’re both a little cracked.”

“By cracked do you actually mean broken?”

He sighed. “Cracked sounds better.”

“It does,” Sansa said softly. 

“Plus, we have chemistry.”

“Do we?”

“You felt something in that kiss yesterday, Sansa. I know you did.”

She had, but it was nothing like what she felt with Jon. And that scared her. “The thing is, Jaime, as suited as you and I might be on paper, I’m not sure we’d work in real life. As you said, we are alike. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“So you’ve decided then?”

“I’ve decided that I do better alone.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I might have to find a way to change your mind.”

Sansa snorted and got up. She patted Jaime on the shoulder as she made her way back in the house. She and Jaime might suit well, but as she’d told Jon she didn’t really do relationships, and she didn’t really like to half-ass anything. If she was going to have one, then she was going to whole-ass it with someone she truly wanted to be with. She didn’t want to think about just who that might be. 

xxxxxxxxx

_I hate you with the passion of a thousand fiery suns._

Jon tried to imagine a thousand fiery suns as he read Ygritte’s latest text message. “Well, that would be pretty hot,” he muttered to himself. 

At least now, a week later, the text messages were coming less and less. For a while there, Jon had thought he might have to change his number. 

Needless to say she hadn’t taken him breaking up with her well. He did make sure to keep Sansa out of it, and Ygritte hadn’t guessed her former roommate was the reason why, and Jon preferred to keep it that way. 

He tossed his phone on the passenger seat of his Nissan, and started it up. 

It had been a week since he’d seen Sansa. It had taken all of two days before he started doing some investigating of his own. He had a name: Tyrion Lannister. He just needed a place now, because Jon was pretty sure that’s where Sansa was spending her free time. 

He bet she thought he would go skulking off after reading her file. And though it had taken him some time, he had eventually given into temptation and did a quick scan of it. He had the basics. 

He wanted more. 

He wanted her entire story as she saw it. 

He wanted _her_. 

He’d refused to go to Dany for help, and had done his own leg work. He’d finally managed to track Tyrion down – the internet really was a wonder – and was now on his way to hopefully see Sansa. 

When he finally managed to find the mansion, he cursed when he realized it was gated. He pulled up to the intercom and pressed the button. 

“Yes?” came a monotone and yet somehow slightly threatening voice. 

“Jon Snow to see Sansa Stark,” he said. 

“We don’t know a Jon Snow.”

“If Sansa is there, she does.”

The intercom clicked off and Jon waited, albeit not too patiently. He got out of the car and stared right up at the camera that was trained on him. 

He pressed the intercom again. No one answered. 

Jon started to pace. Then he went to his car to get a pen and he grabbed Sansa’s file. He was going to write “I’m not leaving until I see her” on the file and hold it up to the camera. Hunched over the passenger seat, he had just written “I’m not” when he heard her voice saying his name. 

He looked up and found her on the other side of the gate, looking at him incredulously. “What the fuck?” she asked. “What are you doing _here_?”

Jon dropped the pen, shut the passenger side door and came over to where she was. Her hands were wrapped around the gate and Jon wrapped each of his hands around each of hers. “Never underestimate what I will do to see you, Sansa.”

She looked at him as though she couldn’t believe he was there. “You are completely crazy.”

“Yep. And it’s all your fault. Can I come in?”

She sighed. “Sure.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! :)

Jon watched from inside his car as Sansa punched in some code on the other side of the gate and then it slowly opened. She stood to the side and waved him in. He pulled up beside her and wished she’d come closer so he could kiss her. 

“You’ll see where the other cars are parked further down,” she told him, her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. 

“Why don’t you jump in the car?” 

“No, I think I’ll just walk down,” she said. 

She looked slightly disoriented, as if she couldn’t quite believe that he was there. Jon wondered if she needed a minute to process that he was. 

He grinned at her and nodded. “Okay.”

He made his way down the drive and couldn’t help but stare at the mansion in awe before pulling alongside the row of cars off the side and parking. 

It looked like a villa that belonged somewhere exotic rather than Kings Landing, but it was quite an impressive façade. The lawn was green, the greenest lawn he’d ever seen and there was a water fountain smack dab in the middle of the front yard. 

Sansa stopped a few feet from him and gestured to the display. “It’s something isn’t it?”

Jon nodded. “It is.”

“How did you find it? Tyrion has taken great pains to not be easily located.”

“It’s amazing what you can do with a little determination.”

She looked amused. “A little?”

“You promised me you wouldn’t disappear.”

“I didn’t.”

“I haven’t heard from you in a week.”

She just looked at him. 

Jon dug his hands in the pockets of his pressed pants. What he really wanted to do was wrap his arms around Sansa, but she hadn’t come closer yet. She was keeping her distance. She was dressed all in black, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail and she wore little makeup. She had her hands on her hips, making her look approachable, yet the fact that she wouldn’t move closer made it loud and clear to Jon that she wasn’t. 

“I skimmed your file,” he said, telling her what she wouldn’t ask. 

“Skimmed?”

“It felt like an invasion of privacy.”

She laughed, the sound lighting up the dark places inside of him. Christ, he had it bad. “Did you forget that you’d asked for the information not long before I handed it to you?” she asked. 

He sighed. “No, I didn’t forget. I acted out of desperation when I asked for the investigation. But when it came down to actually having the information in front of me, it felt too much like prying.”

“Considering I gave it to you freely, it wasn’t. The other way would have been. So you just skimmed it? Not a fascinating enough read for you then?”

“I’d prefer to hear your story from you. The file can tell me simple facts. I want to hear your version of events.”

She smirked. “Jon, come on now. Don’t you know that when you ask someone their version of events they’re always going to make it sound favorable to them?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. She was trying to scare him off. “You dealt pot.”

“It put a roof over my head, albeit not a very good one, but it was a place to sleep and there was a lock on the door. I wasn’t trusted with the hard stuff, though there was better money in it and I would have preferred that. But, I was young and when I dealt to the high school crowd, everyone just thought I was part of them.”

“You were homeless.”

Her jaw clenched, but she met his gaze straight on. “Yes.”

“And that’s what made you a thief. You stole to survive.”

She laughed a little. “Should we have an ethical discussion about the thief that steals a loaf of bread for his family now?”

“Since you brought family up…”

Her expression hardened, but she didn’t budge. She was like a statue. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Jon sighed and looked over to find Jaime coming toward them. He was dressed in sweat pants and a white t-shirt. It was clear he’d been working out by the fine sheet of sweat on his brow, not to mention the front of his t-shirt looked soaked. 

He stopped and looked at Jon and then Sansa. “Has he lost his way?”

“Not at all,” Jon said. 

“Well, then. Perhaps we could take this inside?”

Sansa looked like she wanted to say no, but then she surprised him by saying, “Sure.”

Jaime led the way and Sansa fell into step behind him. Jon’s hands itched to reach out and touch her, but he kept them to himself. 

Once inside the palatial mansion, Jon followed them through a foyer the size of a football field, a kitchen the size of two and then through glass doors that led to the back where there was a sparkling blue in-ground pool and chairs and lounges all around it. A man sat at a glass table sipping what looked like coffee and reading the newspaper. He looked up, brushing some of his floppy brown hair out of the way. He had a scar on his cheek and his blue eyes narrowed as they looked Jon over. 

“Brother, Sansa invited the puppy over to play,” Jaime said. 

“Did she?” Tyrion said with a frown at Sansa. 

“No, I didn’t. He found me,” Sansa said and shot Jaime a glare. He grinned at her and sat down across from his brother at the table. 

Jon held out a hand to the man. “Tyrion, I take it? You look vaguely familiar.”

“So do you,” Tyrion said and shook his hand. “I believe we met once at some charity function Dany put on. How did you find us, Jon?”

“It took a while,” Jon replied. “Had to go well past the first page of a Google search.”

Tyrion laughed and Jaime frowned. Jon looked at Sansa. “But what won’t a man do for love?”

Sansa looked at him sharply, her eyes widening slightly. 

“Puppy love,” Jaime said. “How…sweet.”

“Jaime, shut up,” Sansa said on a sigh. 

Tyrion gestured for Jon to sit. “Have you had lunch, Jon? I can let the cook know we have a guest.”

Jon loosened his tie and sat down. “Thank you, Tyrion. I think I will stay for lunch.”

Tyrion smiled cordially. “So. Why don’t you tell me what it is that you do?”

xxxxxxxx

It was all very surreal to Sansa, having Jon sitting with her, Tyrion, and Jaime and talking about his business. Tyrion spoke so knowledgably of what Jon did that she wondered why he’d never bothered to go into a legitimate business like Jon’s. 

Jaime left for a spell to shower and get dressed and he returned in time for lunch being served. Over quinoa salad, avocado slices, and water with lemon – Tyrion and Jon were still going strong. Now they discussed Dany. 

“I have a question,” Sansa said at last. 

Jon looked over at her. “Yes?”

“Why did your cousin request information on me?”

Jon wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back. “She knew when I spoke with her about you that I wasn’t going to give up.”

“Dany knows all about what it means to have a man not give up,” Tyrion said with a chuckle. 

“Indeed she does,” Jon said with a smile. 

“Sounds like I should meet this Dany,” Jaime said. 

“She’d eat you alive,” Jon said. 

“A man-eater,” Jaime said and looked at Sansa. “I’m familiar with the type.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and Jon cleared his throat and looked at her heatedly, a question behind his eyes. 

“What’s going on?”

Sansa groaned inwardly. Speaking of man-eaters, Cersei had arrived. Sansa watched as Cersei spotted Jon, arched a brow, and came over to stand beside Tyrion while smiling at Jon. “And who is this fine young man?” she purred. 

“He’s not a virgin, Cersei, you can’t suck out his soul,” Sansa drawled. 

Cersei glared at her. “I dislike you greatly.”

Sansa just smiled sweetly at her. Cersei shot her a dirty look and then turned her attention to Jaime. “Could I have a word?”

Jaime sighed. “Sure.”

He got up, excused himself, making sure to nod to Jon and call him “Puppy” before following Cersei into the house. 

Tyrion put his napkin down and got up from his chair. “I do have some business to take care of.” He held out his hand to Jon. “It was a pleasure, Jon.”

“Same, Tyrion,” Jon said and the two shook hands.

Tyrion ambled off and Jon and Sansa looked at each other. 

“And then there were two,” Jon said. Then, “Puppy?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “It’s Jaime’s nickname for you.”

“Am I…puppyish or something?”

She sat back and grinned, cocking her head to the side. “Kind of. But it’s adorable.”

“Adorable? I’m not sure how I feel about that. Plus, I highly doubt Jaime means it that way.”

“So,” Sansa began, “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you broke up with Ygritte?”

He nodded. “I told you I was going to.”

“Well, you also promised to read my file before you did…”

“Breaking up with Ygritte was the right thing to do. Clearly I wasn’t all that committed.”

“What if you’d never seen me again? Do you think you would have been then?”

“No. You see, part of my problem with relationships is that I’ve never met anyone that made me want to try so hard to make time for them. Despite the fact that my job is not currently so satisfying, I still wasn’t willing to free up extra time to spend with Ygritte.”

“Ouch.”

“Yet here I am, playing hooky so I can spend time with you.”

“Have you considered the idea that this could be a fluke for you?” she asked. “That you’ll grow bored of me as well?”

“Impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible, Jon.”

“Let’s say we find out then.”

She looked at him curiously. “How?”

“Let’s do something. Name the activity and we’ll do it.”

“Oh, so I’m to play hooky as well?”

He grinned. “Yes. From what I understand, you do most of your work in the evening anyway.”

“True, true.”

“So? What do you say? We’ll make a day of it – I’ll even ask Tyrion if I may please take you out to dinner afterwards.”

“I pick the activity?”

Jon smiled. “Yes. Anything you want. Even if it’s watching a movie or—”

“I want to go to the aquarium and see the penguins. They make me happy.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Have you ever been?”

“No.”

She tsked him as she shook her head. Then she got up. “I need to change first.” She sailed past him and into the house and Tyrion came out a minute later. 

“Tyrion,” Jon said as he stood. “I was hoping to perhaps take Sansa out for the day. And take her to dinner tonight. Can you…do without her?”

Tyrion smiled. “Yes, I believe I can. I don’t think I need to warn you that if you hurt her…”

“You’ll kill me? No, you don’t need to warn me.”

Tyrion nodded and ambled off again, and a few minutes after that Sansa appeared in the doorway wearing jeans and a pink v-neck top. “Ready?”

Jon grinned. A whole day with Sansa? Hell yes, he was ready.


	15. Chapter 15

Before they actually went to the aquarium, Jon asked Sansa if she minded if they stopped off at his place so he could change. Wearing a suit was not going to exactly be comfortable enough to tool around in. She didn’t mind at all. 

And once they were off and on their way, Jon was amused by how Sansa kept stealing glanced at him in the car. “What are you thinking?” he asked with a laugh. “You keep looking at me.”

“I still haven’t wrapped my mind around the fact that you showed up at Tyrion’s,” she said. “That really happened?”

He nodded. “It did.”

“This is like, a date, isn’t it?” 

He smiled. “Yes. And I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to kiss you.”

“Bored with me already, Jon?”

“God, no. If you had any idea how much I want to kiss you…”

“Then…?”

“I want to make this day special for you. I want you to have fun, and I want you to enjoy being with me. If you have fun, if you enjoying being with me, if the day is special to you then when I drop you off at Tyrion’s tonight, you’ll kiss me.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she stared straight ahead and Jon began to wonder if he’d done something wrong. He opened his mouth to ask when she said, “Are you for real?”

“What do you mean?”

“No guy has ever…no one has ever treated me like you do.”

“And how do I treat you?”

“Like what I want matters and is important.”

Jon reached out and grabbed her hand. He kissed the back of it and then rested their conjoined hands on the consul between them. “What you want does matter, Sansa, and you are important. I told you before that I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. I meant that.”

She fell silent again and Jon didn’t press her for anything. He let her be; left her to process that this was in fact happening, and he did in fact want her so very much. 

In fact, he was pretty sure he was falling in love with her. Being a stranger to those kind of feelings, it was all new to him too. Not to mention terrifying. Sansa had told him more than once she didn’t do relationships. So then how did he convince her to give a chance? And since he wasn’t all that great at relationships, how did he ensure he didn’t fuck this up?

The part of Jon that liked to deal in facts and all things tangible wanted answers to this. He wanted to know what to do and then apply himself to the task of doing whatever “it” was well. But that sort of thinking didn’t work in this instance and so Jon was left to do what he felt so out of his comfort zone doing: going with the flow. That was a realm in which Sansa seemed to work better in. His best course of action then, was to take his cues from her. He’d let her dictate their course insomuch as it kept moving forward. When it strayed off course, he’d pick up the reigns and guide them for a while. 

He smiled. He was learning already.

xxxxxxxx

“This is my Tiffany’s,” Sansa said as she leaned over the railing that separated her from the penguins down below. 

“Come again?” Jon said and looked over at her curiously. 

“Have you ever seen _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_?” she asked. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes had been glued to the penguins the minute they’d gotten inside the aquarium. 

“I have.”

“Well, you know how Holly says that nothing bad can ever happen in a Tiffany’s? This is my Tiffany’s.” She beamed as she gazed down at the frolicking penguins. “Nothing bad can happen here.”

“Specifically with the penguins or…?”

“Specifically with the penguins, yes.” Now she looked at him. “And as good a thief as I am, I have never quite figured out how to smuggle one out of here.”

Jon laughed at that and leaned in to press a kiss to her temple. “I think you would lack the proper habitat to keep a penguin, sweetling.”

“Tyrion is richer than God. He could figure something out for me. I’ve mentioned it, but he just shakes his head at me.”

Jon leaned on the railing at an angle so he could look at Sansa. He liked looking at Sansa. It was quickly becoming his favorite pastime. “If I could find a way for you to keep a penguin, I would,” he said. “Or lasso a star from the sky, or—”

Sansa pressed her hand to his mouth. “Quit while you’re ahead, smooth talker.”

He grinned against her hand and she just shook her head, dropped her hand, and looked back at the penguins. They spent a good twenty minutes just standing there and watching them, taking turns pointing out some of the antics of the penguins. 

“I suppose we should see the rest of the aquarium,” Sansa finally said with sigh. “Ready?”

Jon nodded. “Lead the way.”

She surprised him by taking his hand as she led him through the crowd and to the rest of the aquarium. Jon’s heart beat hard in his chest. All he wanted to do was pull her in his arms and kiss her. All too soon though, she let go of his hand, and they started weaving through the tanks that held the other aquatic life. 

“Do you like the water, Jon?” she asked as they watched the tropical fish. 

“It’s all right,” he said with a shrug. “When I was a kid my parents would take a few trips to the beach over the summer. As I got older I didn’t go so much, and now I never go at all.”

“I want to be a mermaid,” Sansa said with a dreamy sigh. “Just spend all day in the water with my friends…lure gorgeous men to their deaths with my singing voice…” She flashed him a mischievous grin and he laughed. 

“Can you sing?” he asked. He pondered taking her hand, wondered if she’d be okay with it or pull away. Or if he wrapped an arm around her. He thought perhaps that was too couple-y for Sansa. Strangely, it would normally be for him, too, but with Sansa it wasn’t. 

“A little. I took voice lessons for a while. I was such a girly girl when I was a teenager. Arya was always the tomboy. You wouldn’t have liked me then. I was too consumed with petty shit like makeup and hair and boys.”

“I’m sure I would have liked any incarnation of you, Sansa.”

She didn’t look convinced. She started to walk away from the tropical fish and they made their way to where the seals were. Sansa found a bench for them to sit on and she watched the seals swim back and forth with childlike wonder. Jon couldn’t take his eyes off her. This wasn’t the Sansa he’d been exposed to. That Sansa that was guarded and sometimes snarky and a bit more…polished. This Sansa was joyous and happy. Relaxed. 

With his heart in his throat, Jon risked rejection by taking her hand. She didn’t pull away. Jon entwined their fingers, and she still didn’t pull away. After a few minutes, she sat back and leaned into him. She pointed across him to the tank at his far left and he looked down at her as she laughed at one of the seals. She looked up at him and their eyes locked. 

_I love you_ , he thought. It came unbidden, but he knew it was true. He wasn’t falling; he’d fallen. 

She smiled at him, a knowing smirk as though she’d heard his thoughts and then she sat back and rested her head on his shoulder. 

Jon had never wanted to tell a woman he loved her. He’d never been in love to know what it felt like. It was like…like if he’d fallen out of his apartment window without a parachute. He was just plummeting to the Earth. Free-falling, and about to brain himself on the concrete. 

Shit. Now he knew why he’d avoided relationships. There was the possibility of this happening. 

“I want a seal,” Sansa said. “Those might be harder to steal.”

Jon laughed nervously. “Yeah, I think so.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him quizzically. “You okay?”

Looking into her eyes, Jon remembered to breathe easy. “Yeah. What do you want to see next?”

“The ladies room. I’ll be right back.” She kissed his cheek and hurried off and Jon watched her weave through the crowd and thought, _What a way to go though._

xxxxxxxxx

For the first time in a long time, Sansa felt like that carefree girl she once was. It was amazing what the aquarium could do for one’s heart and soul. 

And it was kind of amazing what Jon Snow could do for them too. 

She still didn’t think she could do a relationship, but there was no harm in having a little fun, was there? And Jon seemed so determined…it was actually really sweet. Maybe that made her a little cracked in the head considering all he’d done thus far to get to her, but Sansa hadn’t exactly been playing with a full deck for a long time. She’d never had anyone fight for her. Aside from Tyrion, most people just gave up on her – on the other hand she didn’t really let all that many people in. And by not many she meant none at all. 

Not that Jon was in. He wasn’t. But she was attracted to him, and she was curious about what it would be like to see more of him. 

After the aquarium, they walked around downtown and Sansa asked about his work, Dany, and what he was like as a boy. She liked to know what adults were as children before life came along and smacked them upside the head. Morbid to be sure, but it was true. 

“I wanted to be firefighter when I was a boy,” Jon told her. 

“I could totally see you as a firefighter!” she said and slung her arm through his. This touching thing she was doing was kind of freaking her out. “You’d have women calling you to get their cats out of trees all the time.”

He laughed. “Is that your way of saying you think I’m handsome?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. You know you’re hot. Plus, I’ve seen you naked. I know all about those rock hard abs.”

He stopped walking and just looked at her, eyes going dark. She smiled broadly. She’d known exactly what she’d done to him. She pointed to the seafood restaurant across the street. “I want to eat there for dinner. Can we?”

“Yes,” he said gruffly. 

“Do you like oysters, Jon?” she asked as she pulled him across the street. “I hear they’re an aphrodisiac.”

“You are the devil, Sansa.”

She laughed her most evil laugh and looked over her shoulder at him. “Just remember that kiss you’ll be getting later.”

He groaned; she grinned, and into the restaurant they went. 

xxxxxxxxx

“You’re even walking me to the door?” Sansa asked as Jon opened the car door for her after their date. 

He smiled and held out his hand. “Of course. I have to make sure I really earn this kiss you promised I’d get.”

She smiled and climbed out of the car. “Oh you mean this one?” She pecked his cheek and then darted away. He growled and reached for her and she squealed and ran away. He caught up with her though, wrapping his arms around her from behind. 

Sansa laughed and spun in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed up at him. “Thank you, Jon Snow. I had a wonderful time today.”

He leaned in, bumping his nose against hers. “That means you’ll let me see you again?”

“I think that can be arranged,” she said softly. “I put my cell number in your phone under ‘Holly Golightly’.”

“Okay, first – I thought you didn’t give your cell to just anyone?”

“You’re not just anyone,” she said and then frowned as if that disturbed her. “Plus, you have some weird connection to Tyrion through your cousin so I think it’s okay.”

“Second – when and how did you get my phone to put your number in it?”

“You had it in your jacket. Not a great place to put it. I took it out while you were engrossed with the sharks at the aquarium. You didn’t even notice.”

Jon had to laugh. “You are a brat.”

“It’s why you love me,” she said and then realized what she’d said when his gaze darkened and he began to look very Jon Snow Somber. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant it – oh, fuck it.” She grabbed his face and planted a big kiss on him – full of passion, complete with tongue, and a nibble on his bottom lip. When his hands started to tighten, Sansa slipped away, blew him a kiss, and ran into the house. 

She pressed her back against the door and licked her lips. She kind of wanted another kiss…

She spun around and opened the door and there was Jon about to knock. She smiled when she saw him. “Oh thank God,” she breathed. 

“Indeed,” he breathed and this time, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. This time it was slow, not at all practiced like her kiss before. This one was full of meaning. He was telling her something with this kiss and Sansa tried her best to answer him…

He broke the kiss when they were both breathless and pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to see you tomorrow,” he rasped as he wrapped his arms around her. “And the day after that, and the day after that…”

Sansa put her hands on his chest and laughed softly. “Slow down, Jon.”

He nodded. “I know I should…”

“Yes, you should.”

“But I will see you soon?”

“You surprised me today,” she murmured. “Allow me to surprise you next.”

“Yes,” he said and kissed her hard and quick. “Make it soon.”

“I will.”

He kissed her again and then groaned and broke it. “I better go before I can’t.”

“Goodnight, Jon.”

He kissed her one last time. “Goodnight, Sansa.”


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, Sansa was on a mission. She was going to make good on her promise to surprise Jon, but she would come bearing gifts. Nothing too spectacular, just coffee and a cheese Danish from one of her favorite café’s downtown. She had told him about their amazing coffee and pastries the night before on their date, and she thought it would be a nice surprise. 

She had the brief thought that maybe she should let him sweat it out a bit and wait a day, but as Jon had proven yesterday by showing up at Tyrion’s, he didn’t like to wait. 

She was taking a shortcut through a seedier neighborhood on her way to Jon’s office, carrying his coffee and Danish when she saw him. 

Petyr. 

He was standing in front of an adult video store and he was smiling at her as though he’d been expecting her. Sansa stopped abruptly and dropped the coffee and the Danish. Her heart thudded hard in her chest and the desire to run was strong. 

“What the fuck, lady?” someone muttered as they knocked into her. 

She turned her head and apologized and when she looked back across the street, Petyr was gone. Of course. Because he was slimy and sneaky. She felt shaky. 

Sansa prided herself on being fearless and brave, and one look at Petyr Baelish and she was that little girl whose family had been ripped apart and had been seen as prey by one perverted and disgusting man. Hadn’t enough time passed? How long did it take for victims of sexual assault to recover? 

Okay, so, now she’d seen him. And he’d clearly seen her. From the looks of it, he had seen her before this, too. He didn’t look at all surprised to see…oh, fuck. Had he been watching her for a while? The thought of that twisted in her gut. 

She thought of Jon. Had that fucking fuck seen her and Jon out on their date? She shivered, feeling as though she’d just been slimed. 

_Tyrion_ , she thought. _I need to tell Tyrion and Jaime I saw him_. 

Her phone dinged, signaling a text message and she jumped a mile and broke out in a cold sweat. She half-expected the text to be from Petyr. It wasn’t though; it was from Jon: _I can’t stop thinking about you. Will I see you today?_

Some of the tension seeped out of her as she read and re-read his text message. She would like to see him, seeing him might take away the overall feeling of grossness she felt after seeing Petyr, but his coffee and Danish were currently one with the sidewalk and she had to tell Tyrion and Jaime about seeing Petyr. 

_I have some stuff I need to do_ , she replied back. _Duty calls._

xxxxxxxx

Jon frowned at the text he’d just gotten from Sansa. _Duty calls_. What did that mean? And why did he not like what it could mean?

Well, that was an easy answer. Because Sansa worked for a mobster. He had a general idea of what that entailed, and from what he’d researched online, there were various facets and jobs to a mob organization and though he wasn’t quite clear on what Sansa did for Tyrion, Jon had already seen her drugged. That was enough to scare him and give him cause to worry for her welfare. 

Sure Jaime and Sandor had been there with her before that bastard could have done anything to Sansa like rape her.

Jon’s stomach roiled. He didn’t want to think about the what ifs of what could have happened if Jaime and Sandor hadn’t been able to get to her when they did but they wouldn’t stop coming. 

1\. What if the guy who’d drugged her knew she’d had backup and he’d had backup too that had then thwarted Jaime and Sandor from getting to her? 

2\. What if the same guy wanted revenge for how Sandor had punched him out cold and went after Sansa? 

3\. What if he went after Sansa when she didn’t have protection? 

4\. Was that guy part of another mob? If so, did this mean there was some kind of mob war?

5\. Was Sansa now caught in the middle of whatever was going on? Was her life in danger?

Okay, so Jon’s knowledge of mobsters was limited to _The Godfather_ and _The Departed_ , but that sort of thing happened, right? He remembered learning about Al Capone and Whitey Bulger once upon a time. 

He was afraid for her. He loved this woman; he couldn’t lose her now that he’d just found her. 

“Jon? Where were you yesterday? Did you get any of my texts?”

Jon sighed and raked a hand through his hair as he turned to look at Dany who had just entered his office. “I did….when I got home and I turned my ringer on.”

“Where were you all day?”

“I was with Sansa.”

Dany sighed. “Jon—”

“Why don’t we skip the part where you’re disappointed and worried about me and get to the part where you tell me how you know Tyrion Lannister.”

Dany stared at him. Blinked. 

“Don’t think I’m going to fall for the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ routine,” Jon said. 

Dany sighed. “I thought it was worth a shot.”

“So you tried to warn me away from Sansa because you thought she might be involved with the mob, when all along you had connections to it?”

“Why do you think I tried to warn you away? It’s not easy to separate yourself from it once you’re in it. In fact, it’s virtually impossible.”

“How deep are you in it?”

“Not as much as I used to be. There are a few things overseas…I’m the man behind the curtain so to speak. Why? What did Tyrion tell you?”

Jon shrugged. “Nothing about you. We talked about me mainly. I think he was interviewing me the way a father would for Sansa.”

Dany shook her head and sighed. “No, Jon. If Tyrion was asking you about your job, then he was probably wondering what you could do for him.” She rubbed her forehead. “What have you done?”

“I’m not a child, Dany. Stop treating me like one.”

“So, this is it then? You just decide to pursue a relationship with this woman and don’t consider the trouble you could bring to your doorstep?”

“Did you consider it when you married Drogo?”

She pursed her lips together. 

“Exactly,” Jon said. “No more lies and secrets, Dany. I know you share a private investigator with Tyrion because Sansa told me. She gave me her file to read after she ripped me a new one for wanting one – thank you, by the way, for throwing me under the bus when Tyrion called you and told you that you weren’t getting the information on her that you wanted. And thank you for bothering to tell me that the file wasn’t going to come through after all because when I asked you after I saw Sansa last week if you’d heard anything yet, you lied to me and said no. I waited for you to come clean and you didn’t.”

“I was hoping if enough time passed—”

“Yes, I know what you were hoping. This control thing you think you can have over me? It ends now. I appreciate that you want to protect me, but you can’t keep me from making my own decisions and living my own life!”

Her eyes welled up in tears and she choked back a sob. Jon wasn’t about to give in though. This was a manipulation and she’d done it to him more than once. When she realized he wasn’t going to rush to comfort her, she hurried out of his office.

Jon sighed. That went well. 

xxxxxxx

“The fucker was looking right at me, Tyrion!” Sansa exclaimed as she paced in front of the pool. 

Tyrion looked at her calmly as he sat at the table. Jaime frowned and looked at his brother. “He could have been around for a while doing his thing and watching her the whole time,” Jaime said. “When can we kill him again?”

“As soon as we find out if he’s working for someone.”

Sansa pursed her lips together. “What’s your plan here then? If he’s been watching me then it’s not like I have to work too hard to draw him out.”

“Maybe, but if he knows about me, maybe not. You said you saw him outside the adult video store?” Tyrion asked. 

“Yes.”

Jaime snapped his fingers. “Wasn’t there something with that place not too long ago? A bust? Someone had reported to the cops that they thought there was a sex trafficking ring going on there? They ended up not finding anything.”

Sansa shivered. “I can’t even…”

“Can you do this?” Tyrion asked. 

Sansa forced herself to nod and to keep her voice even when she said, “Yes.”

“There’s a bar next door,” Tyrion said. “I want you to go in there. I want you to get a drink.”

“This is where I officially become bait?” 

Tyrion nodded. “Yes. Sandor will be outside. Jaime will be in the bar.”

Sansa sighed. “Okay.”

“I doubt he’ll approach you – if he knows you’re there – right away. He might wait for a few more visits. I want you both to sit away from each other. You don’t know each other. You’re just there to have a drink and unwind and talk to the locals. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Jaime and Sansa said at the same time. 

“We’ll discuss later what to do if Baelish does make himself known.”

“I need a shower,” Sansa said and headed for the door. “Or twenty.”


	17. Chapter 17

When Sansa “seduced” a guy (and a few women too) for money, she never had sex with them. The exception had been Jon, and that was only because she had actually really wanted to have sex with him. But typically only a few kisses were shared. She didn’t really even let her marks get away with groping her. She did the groping if she felt so inclined, not them. 

Everything she did – or didn’t do – was on her terms. 

Yet nothing about going to some seedy bar to draw Petyr fucking Baelish out was on her terms. Probably because she was a big fat liar when it came to be okay with doing this. Maybe if she’d been honest and told Tyrion that Petyr had tried to rape her he might have figured out another way. Maybe put someone else to work, like Cersei for once, but Sansa also knew that wasn’t how it always worked.

When Tyrion had a goal in mind he thought of the best way to achieve that goal. He put those people on the job that he thought would get the results in the areas they specialized in and then expected them to get to work and get those results. Feelings had little to do with the equation. 

So, there she was, sitting at a bar dressed in jeans that were constricting her breathing and a top that was less than modest with makeup on that was set to whore. She felt like one too and she hated it. She especially hated the old creep in the suit that wouldn’t stop eyeing her. 

The others along the length of the bar eyed her too, but not like the suit. It could be that the suit reminded her of Petyr. She casually glanced down at the other end of the bar to Jaime who met her gaze briefly and then proceeded to ask for another beer. Jaime’s shtick tonight was to pretend to get a little wasted and complain about his ex in the hopes that someone suggested he get laid. Jaime would say he didn’t have anyone to have sex with and then hopefully they’d tell them they knew of a place/pimp/girl. 

Sansa was not only to draw Petyr out, but maybe even get propositioned by another fucking Ramsay Bolton character. Hopefully without the drugging this time. 

She hated it. Every part of it. She felt like trash. Like a piece of meat. Her head was not in the game at all. Plus, Jon kept intruding in her thoughts and she felt guilty. Like she was cheating on him, which was stupid since Jon wasn’t her boyfriend. Yeah, they had a date, but that didn’t mean they were suddenly an exclusive item. They were having fun, that’s all. 

The suit came over and sat down beside her, trying so hard to make it seem casual when Sansa knew it was anything but. “Never seen you here before, beautiful. What’s yer name?”

Sansa situated herself to face him and crossed her legs, making sure to show him just how long they were. “Sophie,” she said. “What’s yours?”

“Richard.” He held out his hand to her and Sansa steeled herself to actually have to touch him. His hand was warm. It creeped her out. But, she had a part to play.

She leaned forward, making sure to give him a view down her shirt “Do your friends call you Dick?” she said, making sure to form her mouth just so when she said Dick to turn him on. 

It worked. He was practically salivating. Sansa had to tell herself not to make stinky cheese face 

“You can,” he said with a grin. “Can I buy you a drink, beautiful Sophie?”

She wanted to tell him no because she didn’t trust this place and this douche canoe. “Sure.”

After her drink was ordered, Sansa watched the bartender like a hawk. A glance down the bar told her that Jaime was doing the same in between bits of conversation with the guys around him. 

“So what do you do, gorgeous?” Dick asked. 

“I’m actually in between gigs right now.”

“So you’re unemployed.”

She frowned. “Yeah, you know how it is trying to find work lately.”

“I’d hire you immediately. No resume required.”

She affected a giggly kind of laugh she hated, but men like Dick ate right up. “And what do you do, Dick?” she asked. _Please say you’re a pimp, please say you’re a pimp, please say you’re a pimp._

She just wanted to go the fuck home. 

“I’m a used car salesman.”

 _Of course you are_ , Sansa thought. _I feel like one right now_. “What would your wife say if you hired me, Dick?” He wasn’t married. He wore no ring. Sansa had already checked that. Granted, sometimes that didn’t mean much to guys like this. 

“I’m not married, sweet thing.” He put his hand on her thigh and Sansa tried not to tense. “I live alone. Do you?”

“No girlfriend?” she purred and played with the end of his tie. 

She felt so dirty…

“You could be my girlfriend,” he said and his hand moved further up her thigh. 

Sansa looked at him, weighing her options. If she told him to kindly get his hand off of her she risked ruining this entire operation. However, she didn’t like him putting his hand on her like this. It was too familiar too fast which was what she was supposed to be going for but –

His hand moved to her vag. Oh no. No, he did not. 

Sansa didn’t even have to think. She punched him. Twice. 

She smiled when she saw blood gush from his nose. 

She ignored the bartender that was yelling at her and simply grabbed her purse off the bar, slid off her seat, and stepped on Dick’s hand with her heels on her way to the door. 

She made her way down the street, knowing in a couple minutes Sandor would follow her and a couple minutes after that Jaime would be out the door. 

She kept her head up and swept the area as she walked. Once she’d cleared this block, she’d be able to get in the car and go home. 

She wanted another shower. Or twenty.

xxxxxxxxx

“Are you pissed at me?” Sansa asked after she and Jaime got home and she told Tyrion what she’d done. 

“No, he’s not,” Jaime told her. He looked at Tyrion. “Tell her you’re not pissed.”

Tyrion sighed and spread an arm along the back of the couch. “I’m not pissed.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes. “But you’re disappointed in me.”

Tyrion sighed and that pause told her everything she needed to know. She threw her hands up and Tyrion attempted to backpedal. “Sansa, no, I’m not—”

“Liar.”

He looked at her. Now he was pissed. 

Well, so was she. 

She felt demeaned enough as it was and now he was going to be disappointed with her because she defended herself from being molested by some fucking creep? No way in hell. 

She changed, packed a bag, and asked Sandor to take her to the hotel downtown. The one that was not Tyrion’s. 

Jaime caught up with her outside and stepped in front of her to keep her from getting in the car. “Where are you going?”

“A hotel.”

“Ours?”

“If by ours you mean yours, Tyrion’s, and Cersei’s, yes.”

Jaime sighed. “Sansa, you know how Tyrion can get.”

“Tunnel vision and a narrow-minded focus on what he wants? Yes, I know.”

Jaime placed a hand on her arm. “I fully support you decking that guy.”

Sansa clenched her jaw. _I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry._

“Love,” he murmured and curled his hand around her elbow. He tried to pull her closer, but Sansa lifted her arm and moved away from him. She shook her head. 

Jaime sighed and nodded. “You need a couple days?”

Sansa nodded. He knew the drill. 

“I’ll let him know,” Jaime said and stepped out of her way. Just as she was getting in the car, Jaime called out, “And what do I tell the puppy if he comes by?”

“Tell him…” She was at a loss with this one. She thought of Holly Golightly. “Tell him I’ve got the mean reds.”

“What—”

Sansa didn’t stick around to hear him ask what that meant. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Sansa spent the rest of the following day in her hotel room alternating between sleeping and watching TV. Her phone was off. Jon had tried texting her and so had Jaime, and she just didn’t want to be bothered. 

It wasn’t just what had happened with Dick. It was Petyr. It was Ayra, Robb, Bran, Rickon, and her parents. Every so often when she allowed herself to think of them, of all she’d lost, she needed time. Time to get herself together. Seeing Petyr had brought it all back. Seeing him had also brought back what he’d done to her. 

Seeing him felt like a vein had been ripped open. Now she was just bleeding out, thinking about all she’d done since her parents and Robb had died and her siblings had all been divvied up among strangers, and Sansa to a perverted pedophile. 

She’d never finished high school. She had fallen behind after her parents and Robb died and she’d hit the streets to avoid Petyr and child services. She didn’t have a lot of faith in the system. Sleeping in a dumpster was preferable to what Petyr had warned he would do: lie. He would make it her fault, tell them she had been lashing out, that she’d been unstable. Who would they believe, he’d asked? Her, who had just lost her parents and older brother, who had just been uprooted away from her family and was struggling in school and lashing out at her teachers, or him who had been her “uncle” since she was born?

Him. They would have believed him. There was no real justice in the world. There would be though when Petyr met the business end of her gun. 

She missed her old life. She missed Arya. She missed her little brothers. Did they even remember her? They’d struck gold with the family they’d been placed with. 

Sansa heard a sound from the door and she looked over to find a file had been pushed under it. Jaime. Or Sandor. She got up and made her way over and picked it up. She opened it and inside were pictures of Bran and Rickon, now fifteen and seventeen. They were such handsome boys. Bran looked like their father, and Rickon reminded her of their mother. 

She clutched her bi-monthly report of her brothers to her chest and went to sit on the bed to read about how they were doing. It wasn’t until after her sobs had subsided that she was able to actually read it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I apologize for a Jon-less chapter. I just wanted to put out some more insight into Sansa's past and where she's coming from. 
> 
> So, I need your help. Would would you prefer? Tyrion telling Jon where he can find Sansa, or Sansa going to see Jon? I am having a hard time deciding...


	18. Chapter 18

The mean reds. Jon had a vague recollection of what that meant, but he had to watch _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ again to understand. And he wanted to understand because he needed to know what it meant when Tyrion said that sometimes Sansa needed to take a couple days for herself, and she preferred to be completely alone. That would explain why she hadn’t replied to any of his texts, or returned any of his calls. 

According to Holly Golightly, the mean reds were when you were afraid and you didn’t know why. They were different than the blues. This begged the question of what Sansa was afraid of – outside of letting anyone close. 

If she was afraid, Jon wanted to take the burden onto himself. He would protect with her; do anything he could to make her feel safe. She didn’t trust him yet, not completely, though he did think he scored some points for tracking her down at Tyrion’s. He had a feeling Sansa didn’t have too many in her life that fought for her – even if that person they had to fight with in order to be with her was Sansa herself. She liked to call the shots and every interaction they’d had before he showed up at Tyrion’s had been on her terms. She sought him out, or she deigned to heed a request that she visit him. He could tell that showing up as he’d done had surprised her and thrown her off a bit, but she’d liked it. Sansa wouldn’t do well with a man she could push around. She would get bored with that. She needed someone to challenge her, and Jon liked to think that he provided that challenge for her. Gods knew she certainly challenged him.

Now, he was giving her the space she needed, but if it went on too long (it was already too long for Jon), he was going to track her down again. Not even the mean reds could scare him away. 

He was antsy, no doubt about it. He’d had a taste of what they could be on their date and he wanted more. So much more. He was working from home that afternoon because he just didn’t want to deal with Dany or anyone else. Plus, he was having difficulty concentrating. 

He was surprised when there was a knock at his door and he jumped up, hoping that it was Sansa. _Please, please, please let it be Sansa_ , he thought as he made his way to the door. 

It was. 

He was so happy to see her, he immediately reached for to draw her into his arms, but she ducked out of the way and scurried inside his penthouse. 

Jon frowned. _Okay…_

She looked around the room, the way she always did when she was inside and then finally at him. “So, hi.”

“Hi,” he said. He was bracing himself. Something was up. She wouldn’t even look him in the eye. “How are you doing?” he asked. 

“Tyrion said you stopped by.”

“I did. I watched _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ again to see what it meant to have the mean reds.”

“Why didn’t you just Google it?”

“Because I thought watching it might mean more.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Great movie, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” he said and then took a step toward her. She shuffled away. “Sansa, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“There’s some stuff going on…it’s kind of messy and not fun. Not that any of the stuff Tyrion does is all that fun, but…I just think that it’s best that we don’t see each other for a while.”

Jon just looked at her. He said nothing for a while. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“I can’t.”

“You can tell me why you had the mean reds, can’t you? That has nothing to do with Tyrion or business, does it?”

“It’s just a thing. You know, everyone has those days…I don’t want to keep you, so I’ll see you around or—”

“No.”

She looked at him, blinked. “No? What do you mean, no?”

“I mean I don’t accept not seeing you. And I don’t accept you not being able to tell me what upset you.”

“You don’t really have a choice,” she said with a shrug. “My life, my decisions.”

“You’re being a coward.”

Her brows went up and her hands went on her hips. “ _Excuse_ me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m being a _coward_? You have no idea about the things I’ve done and seen—”

“I know, Sansa. You’re street smart. You’re tough. You can take someone out with the flick of your wrist, and probably kick my ass where I stand, but when it comes to making any kind of real connection with someone, you shut down. You hide behind jokes and that tough girl façade, because inside you’re terrified to let anyone in. Your bravado is all an act.”

“You don’t anything about me,” she snapped. 

He stalked over to her and this time, she didn’t move away. He bent slightly and looked directly in her eyes as he spoke. “Because you’re a coward who won’t tell me. You gave me a file so you wouldn’t have to share yourself with me, and you disappeared because you’d rather disappear than watch someone walk away from you. You’re afraid to be hurt, you’re afraid to let anyone close, and you try to control all of your relationships so you can make sure you can leave before they can. Ygritte lived with you for over two years and she knew next to nothing about you. You can tell her that it was all because of Tyrion’s business, but I’m not buying it.”

“Jon, stop—”

“I also think that you knew I wouldn’t give up so easily on you. If you truly didn’t want to see me anymore you could have easily just disappeared, but here you are. If I showed up at Tyrion’s, he would have sent me on my merry way because I’m pretty sure that he’d give you whatever you wanted—”

“That’s not true,” she said bitterly. 

“What isn’t?”

“He wouldn’t give me whatever I wanted.”

Jon narrowed his eyes. “If you asked him to not let me in, you don’t think he would send me away and probably with a threat against my life if I tried to reach you?”

“No, he would do that much at least.”

“What wouldn’t he do for you, Sansa?” Jon asked softly and straightened. 

She sighed and looked away from him. Finally she said, “This is crap,” and attempted to walk away from him. Jon grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. Her hand went up as if to hit him and he caught her wrist before she made contact. 

“Don’t push me, Jon. You won’t like it if you do,” she snarled at him. 

“I can take it. I can take whatever you hit me with. What I can’t take is never seeing you again. Never kissing you again. Never holding you in my arms again.” He took a risk and let her hand go and put his on the side of her face. “I love you, Sansa. I _love_ you.”

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I was halfway there that one night we spent together, and I was halfway there when I saw you again.”

“I stole from you!”

“Yeah, and more than just my money apparently,” he muttered and drew her closer, wrapping his other arm around her. He leaned in close to her until their breath mingled. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said fervently. “I can’t. You _own_ me. If you walk out I’ll follow. I don’t care if you make Tyrion threaten me. I’ll find a way. I won’t let you go, Sansa.”

Her eyes welled up with tears and she tried to pull away from him. Jon wouldn’t let go. “Talk to me, tell me what hurt you – _who_ hurt you. I’ll do anything to make you feel safe. I’ll take on your dragons and your demons. You are so precious to me, so special…” He kissed her quickly and let his lips linger against hers. If he could take her into himself he would; he wanted her that close all the time. “Talk to me, please, tell me what has made you afraid.”

“Jon, please,” she gasped and tears fell from her eyes. He kissed them away and felt tears of his own welling up. “Tell me what dragon I have to slay, Sansa,” he said. 

“I—he…”

“Who? Tell me.” He kissed her forehead, her cheek. He wrapped both arms around her and held her. “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”

“I had a guardian who took me in after my parents and brother died and he…hurt me.”

Jon shut his eyes and held her tighter. “How? Did he hit you?”

“He tried to rape me,” she whispered. “I got away. That’s when I ended up homeless. I ran away. I had to. I didn’t trust anyone to take care of me. The only people that would were gone.” She pushed away from him and glared at him as tears fell down her cheeks. She wiped furiously at them. “Are you happy now?” she spat. “I told you. And now you can go away.”

Jon shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said simply. “I love you.”

“How?!” she exclaimed. “How can you love me? There’s nothing spectacular about me, Jon. I’m just a fucking mess. I’m broken. Damaged. I don’t let anyone in because I don’t know how and what the fuck is the _point_? Everyone just lets you down in the end.”

“You’re not broken. You’re not damaged. You’ve been hurt by people that were supposed to take care of you and didn’t. Your guardian had a duty—”

“My guardian was a family friend of my mother’s. I called him Uncle Petyr because that’s what he was to me growing up. And he was a fucking pedophile creep that wanted in my pants. And the Tyrion you think would do anything for me wants me to draw that fucking creep out—” She broke off, growled. “Fuck.”

“What do mean he wants you to draw him out?” Jon asked. 

She heaved a sigh. “Ramsay Bolton – my mark from The Wall? He works for Petyr. Petyr is running some kind of prostitution ring – possibly a sex trafficking ring – here, in town, and Tyrion wants me to draw him out. He wants to know if Petyr is working alone or for someone else.”

Jon tried to keep calm when what he really wanted to do was go to Tyrion and rip his head off. “You can’t tell him you don’t want to do it?”

“I wasn’t exactly honest with Tyrion. I didn’t tell him that Petyr tried to rape me. I just told him that Petyr made it clear he wanted me, and that I left.”

“Because you thought he would look at you differently. Don’t tell me you think that what that fucker did to you is your fault, Sansa.”

She averted her gaze. “No, I know it wasn’t.”

“You do think it’s your fault,” Jon said softly. She looked at him, eyes narrowing. “How did your mother not know? Not see what he was?”

“Because he’s a snake who is good at hiding things like that.”

“No one can hide forever, Sansa. Sooner or later people show their true nature. Maybe your mother didn’t want to see.”

“Don’t talk about my mother that way,” she snapped. 

And the last bit fell into place for Jon. Her parents were dead, and she was mad at them – mad at her mother, probably more, for trusting her old friend and letting him near her kids. By trusting him, he’d been able to slip in after her death and have access to Sansa.

And now Tyrion was putting Sansa in the position to face the man that attacked her by making her fucking bait. Jon grew angrier, and that wouldn’t help her. 

“How is it your file never mentions Petyr?” Jon asked. 

She shrugged. “No one’s perfect? I don’t know. Files like that are not typically looked at for things like that. What Tyrion more or less wanted to know when he ordered on one me was the sorts of things I did – the illegal things – and who I knew in those situations. Some of that other stuff becomes background noise.”

“Sansa, you have to tell Tyrion what Petyr did to you,” Jon said. “You can’t be bait for this man – not for anyone at all while we’re on the subject—”

“It’s my job,” she said flatly. 

“Your job shouldn’t involve putting yourself in danger,” Jon said through clenched teeth. 

“You do realize that I work for a mobster, right? Life being in danger? Kind of a full-time thing.”

Jon raked a hand through his hair. “Is this what you were doing when you said duty called the other day? You were being bait?”

“I saw him. I went to get you coffee and a Danish and I was heading to your office and I saw Petyr. He looked like he was waiting for me. Jon, I don’t know how much he knows about me right now and I don’t want you to be in any danger either if he decides to use anyone against me. It’s probably best if you and I actually don’t see each other for a while—”

“Not happening. You think I’m going to skulk off when I know what you’re facing?”

“You want to protect me, but I can’t protect you?”

“We’ll protect each other.”

“You’re not part of this. You’re not part of this world.”

“Then I’ll make myself part of it.”

“No,” she shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not.”

“Sansa—”

“How about this one? Once Petyr is caught, justice will be meted out, and I'm pretty sure you can guess what that means. I get to be the one to do the honors. How do you ‘love’ me now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you think Jon will take that one?


	19. Chapter 19

“You think I’m going to stop you from seeking retribution from the man that hurt you, Sansa?” Jon asked her. 

She folded her arms across her chest, eyes narrowed as if she was waiting for him to say something more, something that would no doubt show that she’d managed to push him away. 

He met her gaze straight on and mimicked her stance. She rolled her eyes at him and walked away, her hands on her hips. 

“You won’t succeed in pushing me away, Sansa,” he told her. “How changeable do you think I am?”

She turned to face him, a smirk on her face. “Well, you did make out with me a few times before breaking up with Ygritte.”

He sighed. He’d been pretty sure that was going to bite him in the ass at some point. Sansa wasn’t the type to leave a stone unturned when it came to protecting herself. 

“And you did break up with her after going pretty strong for a few months,” she continued. “So…”

“You’re absolutely right. I did do those things. And I was wrong to have done them. It wasn’t easy at first to understand what was happening and it scared me. I’ve never been in love before, Sansa, so perhaps you could cut me a little bit of slack?”

She shrugged and looked away. 

“I told my mother once that I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love and she told me she wasn’t worried about that,” Jon said. “She said I was one of those mate for life types that would probably take a while and make sure I found the right woman before it happened, but that when it did I was going to fall fast and hard and it would be unshakable. I know you’re looking to shake me off, Sansa. It’s not going to happen. Even if it’s you I have to fight.”

She looked at him, her expression not as guarded. “What’s your mom like?”

Jon smiled. “A sweetheart. But tough as nails, too.”

“And your dad?”

“He’s…dead. He died when I was young of cancer.”

Her arms dropped from her hips. “I’m sorry. Do you have any siblings?”

“No, it’s just me. Dany and I were always close in age, so she has always been like a sister to me.”

“It sounds like your family is very close.”

He nodded and moved closer to her. “We are. Sometimes to the point of being in each other’s business too much, but they all mean well.”

“Sounds like you don’t get in their business too much, but they get into yours.”

He nodded. “That’s right. Can you tell me about your family?”

She shook her head. “Honestly, Jon, I just can’t right now. This has been a little too true confessions for me as it is.”

Finally, he was standing in front of her. He took her hand. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

She sighed and looked down at their entwined hands. “Can we eat in? I don’t really feel like being around people. I hate people.”

He laughed softly. “Funny that. I hate people too. Sure. We can eat in. What would you like?”

“Chinese food? Do you want Chinese food? Do you even _like_ Chinese food?”

He smiled. “I do. I have a menu in the kitchen. I’ll get it.” He was not going to call attention to the fact that she was agreeing to this. She was staying, and for now that was enough. 

“I’ll come with you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any room but your living room and dining room,” she said and let go of his hand. 

He led her to the kitchen and even looked over his shoulder once to make sure she was still there. Sansa was here. She was staying. She wasn’t running off. He opened one of his drawers near the sink and pulled out a Chinese food menu. He went to hand it to her and found her looking around his kitchen, studying it. 

“It’s so… _clean_ ,” she said. “And there is so much chrome. How exactly do you get your fridge so shiny?”

“This impresses you?” he asked with a chuckle. “I’ve seen Tyrion’s place. This looks like a dump in comparison to his.”

“Tyrion’s home is lived in though. Even with maids. But this…I mean, this could be one of those penthouses that are decorated for the sole purpose of showing people what they look like.”

“The pile of clothes on my floor in my bedroom says otherwise.”

“Oh I definitely want to see that!” She scurried out of the kitchen and Jon laughed and followed her. 

“Is it up there?” she asked pointing to the stairs in the corner.

“Yes.”

She grinned mischievously and ran up the stairs. Jon followed after her. He tried to see his bedroom through Sansa’s eyes. All black sheets and comforters and pillowcases. Dark wood bureaus. Some kind of painting on the wall that Dany’s decorator had picked out. He’d told her what he liked; she’d followed his instructions to the T. What he liked was boring. 

He looked at Sansa. Except for her…

She did a slow spin, taking it all in and then smiled when she saw the promised pile of clothes in the corner of his room. He smiled. She looked at him in amusement. “So, black is your favorite color or…?”

“I think my favorite colors are actually red and blue.”

She rolled her eyes and then bounded off down the hall to his bathroom. 

“Jon, you have a bench in your shower!” she laughed and let herself inside. She lay out on her side on it and grinned at him. “I could read while you’re showering.”

He laughed, and tried not to think about showering with Sansa. The last time they’d shared a shower together she’d gone down on him in it. 

“Your book would get wet,” he said as he stepped inside. 

“Nah, I think this bench is too far away from it. Your shower is the size of a football field.” She got up and walked past him slowly, her eyes meeting his and a soft knowing smile on her face. He wanted to grab her and kiss her, and he was pretty sure Sansa knew it too. He wouldn’t though. He wanted to gain her trust and he had a feeling she was still testing him. Right now, she was seeing how much of him wanted her for her and not for sex and because of the heat between them. 

As much as he wanted her, he wanted her trust and her heart more. 

She made her way out of the bathroom and down the hall, through his bedroom and then back down the stairs to the kitchen. Jon followed her and felt like this might be how life with Sansa would be – her leading the way and him helpless to do anything but follow. 

They leaned over the counter together and poured over the menu though Jon knew what he wanted – moo shu chicken – but it was an excuse to be close to Sansa. Their sides pressed together, they chose what they wanted and then Jon placed the call while Sansa made her way to his living room and sat down on his couch. She looked up at him when he came back in. “Do you have Netflix?”

“Of course,” Jon said as he sat down beside her and grabbed the remote. “What are you in the mood for?”

“How about a comedy? Do you like comedies?”

He smiled. “I do. And action and adventure, and also independent films and documentaries.”

“What about horror?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

She turned and sat cross legged on his couch facing him. “Favorite movie.”

He smiled. “ _Jurassic Park_.”

She laughed gleefully. “Oh my God, you’re adorable. Okay, favorite band?”

“The National.”

“Don’t know them. Television show?”

“Don’t have one. Can I ask a question?”

“Nope. Okay, favorite time of day.”

“Twilight.”

She smiled. “Mine too. Brady Bunch or The Partridge Family?”

He laughed. “Brady Bunch.”

“Marvel or DC?”

“DC.” 

She shrugged. “I like both. Supergirl or Wonder Woman?”

“Wonder Woman.”

“Superman or Batman?”

“Batman.”

She spun back around. “I have no more questions now. So, what shall we watch?”

xxxxxxx

They ended up watching _The Breakfast Club_ with their cartons of Chinese food on their laps. Jon got them a couple of beers, and when the cartons were on the coffee table and the movie was just about over, Sansa surprised him by putting her head on his shoulder. She put her arm through his as she leaned against him. The credits started to roll but Jon refused to move. 

“I had to go to a bar with Jaime a couple nights ago and have a drink with the locals,” she said. “I dressed like a trashy whore to make myself look available and I hated it.”

“To draw Petyr out?” Jon asked softly. 

“Yes. Some asshat named Dick put his hand on my vag.”

Jon tensed. His hands curled into fists. 

Sansa took one fist in her hand and kissed it. “I punched him in the face. He went down.”

That made him feel a little better. “Was Jaime and Sandor there?”

“Jaime was inside with me. Sandor was in a car waiting for us to leave so he could pick us up around the block.”

“In case anyone was watching.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you think there was?”

“I don’t know. Jon?”

“Yes?”

“Could you just…could you just hold me tonight?”

“Yes,” he whispered, feeling as though he’d passed her test. Or at least just this one. 

“Can I sleep in one of your shirts?”

Now she was just trying to kill him, he was sure of it. “Yes.”

She lifted her head and he looked down at her. She looked at him, her expression unreadable. She reached up with her free hand and touched the side of his face. Jon closed his eyes and nuzzled into her palm. When he opened his eyes he found her smiling gently at him. She drew his face close and kissed him. Jon kept the kiss sweet and chaste. It was a kiss meant for comfort. 

When it was over, he smiled down at her and asked, “Favorite movie?”

“ _Gone with the Wind_.”

“Favorite band?”

“Muse.”

“Favorite color.”

She smiled. “Black.”

“Favorite dessert?”

“Pie. Any kind of pie.”

He stood and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her up and kissed her quickly. He shut off the TV with the remote and then led her to the stairs. “Freddie or Jason?”

“Freddie. Duh,” she said as they made their way up the stairs. 

He chuckled. “A case can be made for both.”

“I suppose. Which one do you prefer?”

“I like Freddie, too.”

“It’s the mind fuck.”

“And the knives for fingers.”

“Plus, he’s totally sarcastic.”

Once in his bedroom, Jon released Sansa’s hand and got a t-shirt from one of his drawers and handed it to her. She began to strip right there in front of him and Jon made sure to keep his eyes on her face the entire time. By the impish smile on her face, she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Michael Meyers or Freddie?” she asked. 

“In terms of who is scarier? Michael Meyers.”

She slipped his white t-shirt on. “Agreed,” she said. And then walked down to the bathroom. 

Jon changed quickly into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and when Sansa emerged from the bathroom, he took his turn. When he returned she was in his bed. 

_Sansa was in his bed._

He stood in the doorway for a minute and just stared at her for a few, and then he crawled into bed beside her. 

She looked at him, her blue eyes luminous in the soft light of the lamp on his nightstand. “Beatles or Rolling Stones?”

“Beatles,” he murmured and drew her closer. 

“Good answer,” she murmured back and snuggled into him. 

They exchanged preferences for a while after that, even getting into a debate over the best eighties and nineties movies and sitcoms before sleep beckoned them both. Jon turned off the light when Sansa’s eyes started to get heavy and then he pulled her into his side and held her close until he too fell asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

When Jon woke the next morning his first thought was of Sansa. As of late, that was typical. He reached for her before his eyes were even open and they flew open when his hand met cool sheets. 

“Not again,” he muttered and sat up in bed. 

Then he heard some banging around downstairs and the scent of coffee wafted up to him. He smiled. She was here. Jon quickly climbed out of bed and used the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and then made his way downstairs. 

Sansa had her back to him while she turned on the stove. A frying pan sat on top of it. Her hips moved to the music she had playing softly on a radio on the counter next to her and Jon just stood in the doorway and stared. 

“Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” she asked. She looked over her shoulder at him with a smirk. 

He grinned and made his way over to her. He put his hands on her hips and put his chin on her shoulder as he peered over it to see what she was making. “Eggs,” he said. 

“I never asked what your preference was – scrambled or sunny side up. So you get scrambled.”

“ ‘s fine,” he murmured and nuzzled into her neck while pulling her hips back so that she was nestled against his front. 

“You’re distracting me,” she said softly. 

“Good,” he muttered and spun her in his arms. He kept his eyes on hers while he took the spatula from her hand and placed it on the counter. Then he kissed her. Long and deep, with every ounce of feeling he had for her. 

Sansa clutched at his shirt – to use him for leverage or to keep him close, Jon didn’t know. He didn’t care. When he broke the kiss, they were both panting. Sansa’s eyes remained closed and he kissed each eyelid tenderly. 

“One of these days I want to wake up with you in my arms,” he rasped. 

Her eyes opened and Jon lost himself in them. He wanted to tell her he loved her. Wanted her. Would do anything for her. But he feared scaring her off with his confessions and so he merely pressed a kiss to her lips. “Good morning,” he said. 

She smiled, and it had a dreamlike quality to it that pleased Jon greatly. And then her eyes went wide and she twirled around and grabbed the spatula off the counter. “Please don’t be burned, please don’t be burned, please don’t be burned….” She pushed through the orangey yellow liquid and heaved a sigh of relief. “You’re lucky,” she admonished him with a wave of the spatula. 

He laughed and kissed her cheek before tending to pouring them both a coffee. “Let me guess,” he said. “Cream and tons of sugar?”

She smiled. “Good guess. You strike me as a coffee black kind of guy.”

“You’re right,” he said and opened the fridge. “Would you settle for milk?”

“I would.”

He grabbed it. “Good.” 

“Do you have bread?”

“I do. Toast?”

“Please.”

“I have bacon I think, too.”

She lifted the package on the counter. “You do.”

While Jon prepared the toast and Sansa finished the rest of the breakfast, Jon told her about a charity ball he had to attend that Dany had helped put together. “Will you come with me?” he asked. 

“When is it?” she asked, frowning thoughtfully.

“This is short notice, but it’s on Saturday night.”

“I have three days to get a dress?”

“So then you’ll come?”

“I can just get something from The Gap, right?”

Jon didn’t know how to answer that one. It wasn’t that kind of dressed down affair. He was trying to find a way to tell Sansa no, she needed to have something much fancier than The Gap could ever provide when she burst into laughter. 

“You should see your face,” she said through her laughter. “You have the deer in a headlights look down pat.”

He grabbed a dishtowel from the counter and swatted her bum with it. She let out a yelp and then laughed. “You’re the devil,” he told her. 

“Nah. I’m just his consort.”

“Then I demand to be the devil,” he said. The toast popped and he slathered them with butter and put out the only two jams he had: blueberry and strawberry. 

Sansa scooped out the eggs onto plates for them both and then started on the bacon. 

“I can swing a dress,” she said. “What should I go for in this dress: fairly modest, make Jon’s tongue fall out of his mouth, or somewhere in between those two?”

“If making my tongue fall out of my head is synonymous with having to beat off a bunch of men drooling over my girl, then I vote for modest.”

“Right, so in between it is. So this means I’ll meet Dany.”

“Yes. Is that okay?

“The real question is, will _she_ be okay with meeting _me_?”

Jon put the plate of toast down on the table and then came over to Sansa and put his hands back on her hips. “She doesn’t have a choice,” he said and nibbled on her ear. 

“Are you always so frisky in the morning?” she murmured as she tilted her head to the side. “I don’t recall Ygritte ever mentioning it.”

Jon groaned into her neck. “Can you not mention Ygritte?”

“Sorry.”

“And the answer is no. It usually takes me a while to get going in the morning. But with the right incentive…” and then he sucked at her neck. 

“Are you going to leave a mark?”

He grinned against her skin. “I might.”

She swatted him with the spatula on the arm. “Don’t. It will making selecting a dress difficult if I have a giant hickey on my neck.”

“Ah, but then everyone will know you’re mine.”

She looked at him with an arched brow. “That’s barbaric.”

“I find I’m a little possessive when it comes to you.” He slid one arm across her stomach. “You mind?”

“I’ll let you know when I do,” she murmured. 

He rested his chin on her shoulder again and watched her flip the bacon. “What do you have to do today?” he asked. 

“Look for a dress apparently.”

Jon smiled. “Do you have to see Tyrion?”

She sighed. “Eventually, yes.”

“But not today?”

“Not yet. Why?”

“Because after you’re done shopping I want you.”

She laughed. “Oh, you do, do you?”

“Yes, I do. I was thinking of a boat ride.”

She looked at him. “A boat ride?”

He nodded. “Dany has a yacht.”

“Of course she does.”

“And I can arrange for dinner to be served while we’re on it.”

“Jon Snow, are you attempting to seduce me?”

“Well, that is part of my master plan, yes.”

She laughed and kissed him and Jon didn’t think she knew how much it meant to him that she’d initiated a kiss between them. 

“I think that can be arranged,” she said against his lips. “But that might mean another dress…”

He kissed her and thought, _I love you, Sansa._

And then he thought he sure hoped she forgave him when he went to Tyrion and told the mobster he was willing to do anything he could to protect Sansa. Even if that meant joining his organization. 

xxxxxxx

“Jon!” Tyrion greeted him later that afternoon after Jon and Sansa had parted ways. Tyrion and Jaime were sitting together outside by the pool. A plate of fruit sat between them. “Have you seen Sansa?”

“I have,” Jon said. He glanced at Jaime who was studying him closely. 

“And how is our girl?” Jaime asked. 

Jon knew he’d probably called Sansa theirs just to get a rise out of him, and dammit if it didn’t work too. This jealousy thing was new. He wasn’t a fan. “I’ve asked her to a ball Dany is putting on. She’s out shopping.”

“She’s not a big fan of shopping,” Jaime said. “Did you know that?”

Jon clenched his jaw. “I didn’t.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll learn in time.” Jaime shrugged. “Well, maybe. Maybe not.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed at the other man. Jaime smirked.

Whether Tyrion didn’t care that Jaime was egging Jon on, or he just didn’t care, he steered the conversation to what Jon wanted. 

“I want in,” Jon said. 

Tyrion and Jaime both stared at him. 

“You want in,” Tyrion said, over enunciating each word. “What exactly do you mean by that, Jon?”

“I know that Sansa works for you, and I know that you have connections to my cousin so it’s not like I’d do anything that could get you in trouble with the cops,” Jon said. “Plus, I think it’s safe to say that I’m dating Sansa…” He glanced at Jaime. “And I think it’s clear she means a lot to me. I would never do anything to put her in harm’s way. In fact, that’s why I’m here. Sansa told me about Petyr Baelish.”

Jaime sucked in a sharp breath and frowned. Tyrion remained expressionless. “Did she now?” was all he said. 

“Sansa never tells me anything that could put you in any kind of danger or trouble,” Jon told him. “But this Petyr guy has her shook up and I don’t like the idea of Sansa having to be near him. If there is something I can do to help, I want to do it. I want Sansa kept out of it.”

“Did she tell you what he did to her?” Tyrion asked. 

“Yes.”

“Did he rape her, Jon?”

Jon swallowed. “It’s not my story to tell, Tyrion.”

The other man looked at him with something akin to respect. He glanced at Jaime who looked unhappy, and then looked back at Jon. “One thing you do need to know about me, Jon, is that I don’t take being told what to do by the people who work for me. Suggestions are fine, but don’t think you can swoop in and take over or attempt to manage me and how I run my business.”

Jon bit his tongue and nodded. If anything Tyrion did put Sansa in harm’s way he didn’t think he’d be able to keep his mouth shut for very long. And Tyrion knew it, too, otherwise he wouldn’t have just put out that little disclaimer. 

“I’ll see what I can use you for,” Tyrion said. “But if Sansa wants out of plans to draw Petyr out, that his up to her to talk to me about it. Understand?”

Jon clenched his jaw again and nodded. “Yes.”

Jaime pushed away from the table and strode off. Despite the fact that Jon didn’t like the guy, and certainly didn’t like his interest in Sansa, Jon didn’t think it was wise to make an enemy of him. 

“Let’s talk skills,” Tyrion said. “And if you have any, such as self-defense, I suggest you brush up for when you tell Sansa what you’ve just walked into.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This pretty was made by perfectliesfromaperfectdame on Tumblr!
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Sansa turned from side to side in the full length mirror in her bedroom at Tyrion’s to check out how she looked in the outfit she bought for tonight on Dany’s yacht with Jon. She wore black pants that clung to her like a second skin and a strapless white top that had a cascade of material going down the side. She had silver heels to match. 

A knock on the door startled her and she opened the door and found Jaime standing there. “Lover boy is here,” he said and looked her up and down lazily. “My, my. We’re certainly pulling out all the stops aren’t we?”

Sansa rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse off the bed. “Where is he?”

“Outside.”

Sansa shook her head and started down the hall. “Jesus, Jaime, you couldn’t even let him in?”

Jaime fell into step right behind her, practically on her heels. “Well, since he’s practically family now I figured if he wanted to come in he could.”

Sansa laughed. “Practically family, huh? How do you figure that?”

“Well, he seems to just be coming over quite a bit.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, once or twice.” 

“He even came over today when you weren’t here.”

Sansa stopped and turned to look at him. “He came over today?”

“Yes.”

“Looking for me?”

“Nope.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes. “All right, Jaime, you obviously have something you want to tell me so why don’t you just spit it out and stop playing games.”

He walked past her and headed down the hall. “I think I’ll leave that to him.”

“So, this is how it’s going to be now?” she called after him. “You don’t get what you want so you’re going to play games instead?”

He didn’t answer her. Jaw clenched, Sansa made her way down the hall and to the door. Jon was standing just outside the door. His jaw dropped when he saw her and he started to reach for her. She batted his hand away. “A little birdie told me that you were today. Why?”

Jon sighed and rubbed his forehead. “And by little birdie I’m assuming you mean Jaime.”

“Why were you here?”

“I told Tyrion I wanted in.”

Sansa stared at him. There was a roaring in her ears. “I’m sorry, I think I’m having an aneurism, did you just say that you told Tyrion you wanted in to the _business_?”

“Yes.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because I want to protect you.”

“Are you fucking _insane_? What is the matter with you—”

“Sansa, if I can help keep you away from Petyr Baelish then I will absolutely do what I can to make that happen. He scares you and what Tyrion is asking you to do scares me—”

“I don’t care! You’re not involving yourself in Tyrion’s organization, Jon! Petyr will be taken care soon enough.”

“But that’s not where it ends, is it? There is always going to be another fucking Ramsay Bolton and another Petyr Baelish around the corner.”

She pointed at him. “I told you I didn’t want you part of this last night and you deliberately came here and undermined me—”

“You’re not the boss of me, Sansa,” he snapped. “You don’t tell me what to do. I make my own decisions.”

“Well, your decisions are stupid and they’re going to get you fucking killed,” she hissed. “Your world is safe, Jon. It won’t get you killed like mine can.”

“You can’t expect me to just sit idly by and wait for the phone call to come that tells me you’re dead, Sansa! Can’t you understand that the thought of anything happening to you terrifies me?”

“And can’t you understand that I feel the same way about anything happening to you?”

Jon looked stunned, and then hopeful. He reached for her. “Sansa—”

She batted his hands away again. “I’m still angry with you. And now I’m scared for you. This won’t happen, Jon. I won’t allow it. Not many would miss me if I was gone, but plenty would miss you. Your cousin would have my head on a platter and she already dislikes me due to my associations to begin with. You want so badly to be my knight in shining armor? Then be the guy I see at the end of the night, the one I find solace in.”

“Why can’t I be both? Why can’t I be that guy out on the field and that guy that you come to when it’s over?”

She shook her head. “Have you considered how distracting it might be for me to have you nearby? How I might be focused on keeping you safe and might miss a clue? Something that warns me of danger? I’m the first line of defense in protecting myself, Jon. If you’re there I won’t be able to focus.” His expression faltered. No, he hadn’t considered that. “Please tell me he didn’t give you a job already.”

“Not yet,” Jon said softly. “I’m not…I’m not bowing out, Sansa. I can’t. Not when your life is in danger.”

“If you want to be with me then you’ll have to accept that as part of my life, part of my job. Once you’re in you don’t get out, Jon. Think about that, I mean _really_ think about that. I didn’t have many options when I got involved with Tyrion. Please don’t do this. _Please_.”

He held out his hand, his jaw clenched tight. Sansa slipped her hand into his and he pulled her to him and held her tight, one hand cupping the back of her head. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“If you love me you won’t do this.”

“Can we put a pin in this for now?”

She looked at him, brows furrowed and her hands clutching at his suit jacket. “I don’t know if I can. You spoke to Tyrion. If he sets something up for you…there’s still time, Jon. I don’t want you to end up in something you can’t get out of.”

He looked at her searchingly. “Allow me one favor.”

“What?”

“To help you with Baelish. Just that.”

She pursed her lips together. “Let me speak to Tyrion. Not you. Me.”

He nodded once in agreement. 

“Thank you,” she whispered and kissed him soundly. “Do you still want to go out?”

“Of course I do, sweet girl,” he murmured. 

“Then shall we?”

He nodded, kissed her hard one last time, and then led her to his car, his hand clutching hers tightly. When he opened the car door for her, she climbed in, and he shut it with a shaky smile and then ran around to the climb in the driver’s side. 

Sansa sat there, reeling, while Jon rattled off what he had the chef make them for dinner. She felt quite overwhelmed in that moment. 

Jon loved her. He really loved her. 

He’d been willing to risk his life for her. How many would do that? She’d seen people claim to love someone before, but when the chips were down and it was their life or the life of the one they loved, they fought for their own life, not the one they claimed to love. 

But Jon…He’d even gone to Tyrion behind her back because he knew she’d stop him. And though he wasn’t fully giving in to her request, he wanted part of this takedown of Baelish. 

She didn’t want him part of any of it. He was completely separate from that part of her life and she wanted to keep him that way. Outside of her siblings she’d never cared so much about another person’s well-being before, not even Tyrion and Jaime because she…

 _Oh, fuck._

“Sansa?”

She jerked out of her thoughts and looked at him. He smiled, the beautiful Jon smile that lit up his eyes and his whole face. “You with me?”

 _I am completely and utterly fucked._

She nodded forcing a smile.

 _Good God_ , she thought, _where is the parachute? I’m free-falling here._

When they arrived at the docks, Jon held her hand as he led her to Dany’s yacht. “Are you cold, sweetling?” he murmured. “You’re trembling.”

Sansa was a damn good actress. She’d lied her way through many situations – some of them life-threatening…okay, most of them life-threatening. But she’d kept her cool. She didn’t lose her head. 

This, though, this was real and it was scary and big and she was not prepared for it. This wasn’t something she’d ever prepared for. 

She barely took in the sleekness of Dany’s yacht. How it was lit up with lights and the table set for two on the deck with a bouquet of flowers. She sat down on the seats at the bow as he poured them wine. When he handed her a glass she downed it like it was a bottle of water. 

Jon blinked. “Uh, do you want more?”

“You could just bring the bottle.”

He laughed and sat down next to her. “What is it, Sansa? Earlier?”

She shook her head. 

“Then what’s wrong? Talk to me.” He took her wine glass and then got up and set it down on the dinner table along with his. He sat back down beside her and she turned to face him. 

She opened her mouth to speak and then clamped it shut. Then opened it again and shut it. 

“Sansa,” he said with a laugh. “Come on.”

“So I get these reports on my brothers. My little brothers. Tyrion has connections to people all over, and he knows some investigators in Winterfell, where I grew up. So, he has them report on Bran and Rickon for me so I know how they’re doing. He’s tried to get Arya, but she moves around a lot and it’s hard to keep track of her. I don’t always know where she is or how she’s doing.”

Jon took her hands in his. “Why don’t you keep in contact with your brothers?”

“Because they’re happy and I don’t want to fuck that up for them. They were young when Robb and my parents died. They probably barely even remember me or my parents by now. They know the family they have now and that family is good to them. I don’t want to ruin that for them.”

“Don’t you one day want to see them though? Up close?”

“Sometimes I think about it, but my life is…what it is…and I don’t want to taint them. I grew up with a really great family. I wasn’t like I am now. I was innocent about a lot of things, especially about people. I learned really fast because I had to, but I remember how things were. I had one of those families that made you think you could do anything. Be anything.”

“What did you want to be?” he asked softly and kissed her fingertips. 

“A model or an actress.” She snorted. “I wanted to be adored, basically.”

“You are. By me anyway.”

“My heart was so broken when my brother and my parents were killed. I was really close to my brother Robb. He would have liked you after he threatened to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Jon laughed softly. 

“Arya and I never saw eye-to-eye. She was always more as I am now. Little rough around the edges, not very trusting of people outside the family fold. My Dad was an attorney, and my mom was a teacher and they were amazing parents. They’d be horrified with me now.”

“No, Sansa. They’d be proud because you are a survivor.”

“A survivor. That’s it.” She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “That’s what I am. When you’re a survivor you live from moment to moment. You have to. You have to be prepared at all times for whatever could be thrown at you. You learn to roll with whatever is tossed your way. Things don’t really penetrate you because you create this shell of protection around you. You don’t trust anyone, and you’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. You don’t have time to really consider what your path is, what turn you want your life to take because you have to constantly think ahead to make sure you’re prepared for what could go wrong.”

“That sounds lonely,” Jon murmured. 

Her eyes welled up in tears. “It is.”

He looked startled and then troubled to see her tears. He released her hands to cup the side of her face. “Sansa, sweetling—”

“When I was old enough to have crushes on boys, I wanted to so badly to fall in love. And I wanted some boy to fall in love with me. I would watch old movies, always with happily ever afters and I knew that one day it would happen because I was a Stark and I was blessed. I gave up that dream after my parents and my brother were killed and my family was ripped apart. It became all about surviving. I’ve seen a lot of fucked up things, Jon. I lost faith in humanity. Love has always been the last thing on my mind, and for a very long time I didn’t believe in the kind of love I used to watch those old movies for.”

“I never really believed in any of it either,” he told her as he brushed her tears away. “And then…you…”

“Yeah… and then…you…”

Jon froze. His gaze flew to hers. “Sansa, are you – are you saying…?”

“I guess this was my long-winded way of saying I…have…feelings for you.”

Jon looked awestruck. “Feelings, huh?”

“It might take some time for me to work up to saying that…”

“I love you?”

She nodded. 

“You can take as long as you need as long as you promise not to go anywhere,” he murmured and drew her close. 

“I won’t,” she whispered. 

Jon wrapped her up in his arms and held her close. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

“For what? I didn’t even say it.”

He pulled back and looked at her. “You trusted me with your story. You told me about your brothers, about your sister. That tells me everything I need to know about how you feel.”

She smirked shakily. “So then I don’t have to say it?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, when you’re ready you definitely do have to say it.”

“I would do anything to protect my brothers,” Sansa said and gripped his suit jacket tightly in her hands. “I love them so much…and I’ll do anything to protect you, Jon. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “God, Sansa, you tell me you love me without even saying the words directly and I feel like you just handed me the world.”

“One more thing?”

“Anything, my sweet girl. Anything at all.”

“Can you feed me now? I’m fucking starving.”

Jon laughed and kissed her soundly before getting up and leading her to the table where he pulled her chair out for her. He made her feel like a queen. She smiled up at him with happy watery eyes and she swore she saw some tears in his eyes as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was feeling a little rusty with this story, hopefully this didn't suck!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about some smut?

Who knew that Jon Snow was such a romantic? Jon certainly didn’t know he was until he had someone to be romantic for. 

After dinner, Jon put on some soft music and took Sansa in his arms and even though they didn’t dance so much as just sway, it was enough. He’d never known this feeling before and it was as wonderful as it was frightening. He hadn’t realized the lengths he could and would go to for another, and he certainly didn’t know the depth of feeling he could have for another until Sansa had crashed into his life. He was very much aware that in his arms he held precious cargo. He was also aware that it was possible he was a tad obsessed. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sansa asked softly as she looked up at him with a gentle smile on her face. 

He smiled. “You.”

She smiled and touched the side of his face with her fingertips. Jon leaned in to her touch. She leaned in and kissed him and Jon’s heart soared. He loved it when she initiated kisses. He forced himself to keep the kiss steady and not to give in to the need to deepen it. 

Sansa wasn’t having any of that though. She flicked her tongue out in his mouth and Jon was a goner after that. He kissed her deeply, passionately, his arms tightening around her. He couldn’t get enough, and so when she broke the kiss and attempted to push out of his arms, he chased her lips with his own, needing more. She gave in with a laugh and then pulled him with her as she moved backwards. She broke the kiss again, breathless, as was Jon. “So, there is a downstairs, right?” she asked. 

Jon’s hands gripped the fabric of her top at her sides. “Yes,” he rasped. 

“Do you want to…?”

“The day I say no to that kill me.”

She laughed, tossing her head back, and Jon used the opportunity to nuzzle at her neck, and press kisses to the length of it. Sansa’s hands went to his hair and Jon’s cock hardened at the feel of her hands in his hair. 

“God, I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he muttered against the crook of her neck. 

“Ditto,” she whispered and tugged lightly on his curls. “Just so you know, I’m on the pill…”

He kissed her voraciously and pushed her back further. She laughed lightly and then pushed out of his arms. She held out her hand. “Take me to bed, Jon.”

Jon grasped her hand and led her inside, and then down the stairs to the private chambers. The bedroom was big and roomy, even with the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. Sansa looked around at the meagerly decorated room and then kicked off her shoes. Jon kicked his off too. Then he grabbed her around the waist and drew her against him, her back to his front. He bit at her shoulder and she gasped and then giggled. 

“You like that?” he asked huskily. 

“Mmmmm, yes. May I have some more, please?”

As he kissed her neck, and then sucked on a patch of it, his hands went under her top and spread over her stomach. She gasped and then moaned and one hand went back to his head, fingers spearing through his curls. 

Then she turned in his arms and he helped her discard her top as they kissed fervently, wildly. Next was his suit coat. She watched him under hooded eyes as she undid the buttons of his shirt. She took her time; it drove him mad. Finally, he couldn’t take any more and he tugged his shirt open sending buttons flying. He flung it away carelessly.

Sansa laughed with surprised delight as he pushed her against him with one hand at the small of her back. He kissed her as he undid her bra. She laughed again and looked up at him. “You do that quite well,” she chided him with a smirk. 

He laughed and then groaned when he looked down at her. “Oh, God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed. “Memories of that night did not do you enough justice.” He bent, cupping each breast in his hands and suckled the tip of one in his mouth. Sansa moaned and her eyes fluttered shut. She placed her hands on his shoulders as he trailed kisses to her other breast and treated it with the same attention. 

Jon left a path of kisses up to her mouth and Sansa kissed him hungrily before making her own path of kisses across his jaw, down his neck and then down his chest. Jon’s eyes shut tight as she touched and kissed him, her hands spreading hotly over his chest. His stomach quivered under her touch, and when she got to her knees and began undoing his pants, he thought he might just perish right there. 

Once his pants and boxers were gone, she took him in her mouth and Jon grunted, his hands going to her long locks. Her mouth was like a dream and Jon shivered under her ministrations. “Fuck, Sansa, I can’t—” He pushed her away and she looked up at him question. 

“I need inside you,” he whispered and pulled her to her feet. He kissed her passionately, his hands going to her jeans. He undid the snap and yanked down the zipper. He pushed her backwards as he tried to push down her jeans and she giggled when they both stumbled to the bed. Jon steadied her by wrapping his arms around her and then pressing his forehead against hers. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said and placed her hands on his biceps. She kissed him softly, slowly, and then met his gaze straight on as she took off her jeans and then panties. She took his hand and bit her lip as she moved back towards the bed. 

Jon couldn’t take his eyes off her. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. 

“So are you, Jon,” she murmured as she sat down on the bed. She started to move back, but Jon bent and stayed her by grabbing her ankle. She looked at him with a brow arched. 

It was his turn to kneel. 

He spread her legs and licked at her pussy. So wet and so sweet. Jon feasted on her, reveling in her sighs and moans and then the chanting of his name when she came. He wiped his mouth on the inside of her thigh and then kissed his way up her body, his hands caressing every part he could reach. 

She moved back to the middle of the bed and Jon followed. His cock was hard and aching and leaking precum. When he was close she put her hands on his face and drew him in for a kiss. He moaned and knelt between her spread legs. One hand dropped from his face and grasped his cock. She stroked him and then guided him to her wet center. Jon broke the kiss and looked in her eyes as he pushed inside her. He wanted them both to remember this moment. He wanted it etched in their brains, never to forget how perfect this was. 

“I love you,” he said softly. Then his eyes shut tight when he was seated inside her. “Sansa,” he gasped. “My Sansa.”

He moved slowly inside her, wanting to feel every part of her as he glided in and out, in and out, in and out. She moved one hand to the back of his neck, and he shuddered at the feel of her fingers tangling in the curls there. 

“Jon,” she whispered, and then moaned. Her eyes met his. “My Jon.”

Jon started moving faster, her claim on him driving him wild. “I love you,” he rasped. Though he wanted to one day hear those words tumble from her sweet mouth, she had already given him much more than he’d thought he’d get. 

His hands roamed her skin, then slipped under her bottom and lifted her as he angled himself inside her. She moaned and her nails dug into his shoulders. 

“There, sweet girl?” he asked. 

“Yes, there,” she whispered. 

He was nearing his release. “I’m going to cum,” he muttered. “Too soon…”

“Come with me, Jon,” she urged and then she came with a keening cry, her walls pulsing around him, milking him. 

Jon couldn’t hold back. “Sansa!” he shouted as he spilled inside her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and covered her body with his own. 

He stayed there, both of them breathing heavy and he grunted when he felt her fingertips gliding up his back. “You were my first,” he said, his lips against her skin. He licked at her pulse and she shivered. Her hand stopped its glide up his back. “What do you mean?” she asked. “I know for a fact that you’ve done it before, Jon Snow. I was there.”

He laughed lowly and lifted his head to look down at her. “I meant that you’re the first woman I’ve ever made love to.” He brushed some hair from her forehead. “When I woke up the next morning after our night together I thought of it as making love. I’ve never made love to a woman before you, Sansa.”

“Now I feel even worse that I stole from you.”

He laughed. 

She reached up her hands fluttering over the side of his face. “It was special to me too.”

“Was it?”

She nodded. “I really hadn’t had a one-night stand before then.” She smiled. “You’re just irresistible, Jon Snow.”

He bent his head and nuzzled at her neck. “You can stay the night, right?”

“If you want me to,” she said lightly. 

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he wanted her there every night and every morning, but even he knew it was too soon to think it let alone say it. 

“Yes,” he murmured as he lifted his head. “I want you to stay.”

“Then I’ll stay,” she said and kissed him.


	23. Chapter 23

Sansa’s hands gripped the headboard of the bed as Jon thrust into her from behind. She ducked her head, letting her hands slide through the bars of the headboard to rest her head on a pillow. She shut her eyes tight and moaned. “Oh God, Jon…”

She felt him lean over her, pressing his front against her back as he moved inside her. “Are you going to come for me, sweet girl?”

She nodded. And then she felt his hand on her clit and she cried out and came. 

“That’s my sweet girl,” Jon whispered. “That’s my Sansa.”

Sansa turned her head to the side and looked at him over her shoulder. “Come for me, Jon,” she commanded him. “Come inside me.”

That was all it took for Jon. He held himself inside her, gripping her hips hard, and came. He shuddered against her and pressed his lips to her back. “I love you,” he whispered. “God, Sansa…”

Sansa smiled and pushed back at him gently. He pulled out of her and she slid down partially on her belly and side upon the bed. Jon lay down, half on top of her and nuzzled at the nape of her neck. “I didn’t hurt you at all, did I?” he asked softly. 

“Not at all,” she murmured. 

He slid one hand down her arm and then moved up so he could kiss her shoulder. “Good morning.”

She laughed. “Good morning.”

She felt him smile against her skin. “See what happens when you don’t leave my bed so quickly in the morning?”

She laughed again. “Technically this is not your bed, Jon.”

“Then I suppose you’ll just have to bunk over at my place again.”

She hummed and stretched her legs. “You’re adorable.”

Jon now slid a hand up her side and then cupped her breast in his hand. “I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered. 

“You don’t want to overdose,” she warned him gently. “You might find you do have a limit.”

“Debatable considering how crazy I am about you.”

“Maybe you’re just crazy.”

He laughed softly. “Well, that could be debated too I suppose. What do you have to do today?”

“Talk to Tyrion.”

“Tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’ll find out after I talk to Tyrion.”

She could practically feel his worry. “You’ll tell me if you have to go out tonight and be bait again, won’t you?”

Lies and evasions usually dropped so easily from her lips, but this time she struggled with it. 

“Sansa,” he said sternly. “You agreed to let me help with Baelish.”

“I said I’d talk to Tyrion.”

He moved off of her. He was irritated. Sansa rolled onto her back and then sat up while Jon grabbed his boxers off the floor and slipped them on. He put his hands on his hips and looked at her in annoyance. “Sansa, you asked me not to be part of the organization last night and I agreed because I love you and want to respect your wishes. I’m asking you to now respect mine.”

“You won’t like it,” she said. “You’ll hate it, in fact, and if anything happens that makes you want to knock some guy out you could ruin the whole thing.”

He clenched his jaw. “Forewarned is forearmed.”

“And if I have my tits out and every shady fuck in the place is leering at me?”

“I can do it,” he said through clenched teeth. 

“And if one of them touches me?”

His hands curled into fists. Sansa climbed out of the bed and gestured to him. “So, that’s a no.”

“You have to give some time to get used to the idea of other men touching you, Sansa!”

“Do you think you’d ever get used to that idea?”

“If it was to ultimately protect you, to get scum like Baelish out of your life forever, I would learn.”

“It’s not like there’s a huge learning curve, Jon. If I’m at a bar and some asshat comes over to talk to me, you have to trust me and whatever angle I’m working to know that until I signal for help you can’t interfere.”

“Fine. If that’s what I have to do, then I’ll do it. I’ll suck it up and do whatever it takes to be there with you.”

She didn’t believe him, and she rather hoped Tyrion would put the kibosh on it because she could not see it going well if Jon had to see her work. The thought of having to go back out there made her feel pretty nauseous actually. 

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. 

“Sweetling?” Jon murmured and put his hands on her hips. He drew her close. 

“I don’t want to do it,” she said. “Any of it. It didn’t bother me before but it does now. And I don’t know if it’s because of you, or because anything that involves that man makes me gross.”

“I would wager it's probably mostly his involvement.”

She looked at him. “I felt like I was cheating on you last time.” 

His eyes went wide and then he kissed her, his hand at the back of her head. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Sansa…”

“I’ve never put much thought into what I did. I just did it because it was my job. I never questioned it. I even enjoyed some of it. Then you come along and I start to question what the fuck I’m doing with my life.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter though. Once you’re in the mob you don’t get out.”

“Do you want out, Sansa?”

She sighed again. “I don’t know. I’ve never dared to dream of another life. I never really thought that anything else was possible for me.”

“If it was, what would you be? You said model or actress last night…”

She laughed and straightened so she could look at him. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I don’t know. I don’t know what’s available to me out there without a high school diploma.”

“You could get your GED.”

The corner of her mouth turned up into a grin. “I could do that. Maybe apply to some college and get a degree in…you know what I think I’d be good at? Animals. I like them so much better than people. Present company excluded of course.”

Jon grinned and kissed her forehead. “You could do that still, you know.”

Sansa wasn’t sure about that. She looked at him and brushed some of his dark locks from his face. “And what about you? If you could do anything else—”

“Carpenter.”

Sansa laughed. “You had that one ready to go!”

He smiled. “I’ve always wanted to make things with my hands. I made a few things in high school – a couple bookcases and helped my Dad build a shed – and really liked it. It relaxed me and gave me a real sense of accomplishment. Sometimes I think I’d like to make something again, but then I never have the time.”

She bit her lip coyly and kissed him quickly. “I can attest to the fact that you have really good hands.”

His eyes darkened and his expression grew heated as he pushed her back to the bed. 

“Oh my,” she said in faux surprise. “Are we about to make love again?”

“Yes,” he growled and kissed her. 

Sansa tried not to dwell on the fact that Jon was too good for her, that she felt like a bit of a loser when it came to talking about their lives and what she lacked, and that one day he was probably going to realize he could – and should – do better than her. 

xxxxxxxxx

When Sansa arrived back at Tyrion’s later that afternoon, she found the boss man in his office. He sat back from whatever file he’d been looking at when she walked in and regarded her thoughtfully. 

“Have a good night?” he asked. 

She plopped down in the chair across from his desk. “Jon will not be working for you,” she told him. 

Tyrion didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her. She’d seen him do this to other people – it was his go-to intimidation tactic. While some part of her squirmed under that glacial stare, she wasn’t about to be cowed. 

“Is that right?” he finally asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “And since he hasn’t done anything it’s not like it’s a big loss.”

“I could still use him. I have some investments to take care of.”

“Then use him for something legitimate and safe, Tyrion.”

“Ah, the safe discussion.” He laughed condescendingly. 

“I’ve always done what you’ve asked me to do, Tyrion. I’ve never questioned you—”

“So do not start now, Sansa. I don’t like being told what I will or will not do.”

“I just thought since I’m _family_ that you would take into consideration what I want.”

“And what does Jon want?”

“For now he wants me.”

Tyrion arched a brow. “For now?”

“He’s too good for me. He’ll get sick of me in time. I don’t want him to be saddled to something he can’t get out of when that time comes. It wouldn’t do well for your organization if there is dissention in the ranks.”

“I don’t know, with the way you and Jaime bicker sometimes…”

“That’s different, and you know it.”

He nodded once. 

“He does want to help with Petyr.”

“No.”

Admittedly, she was relieved. She hadn’t wanted to tell Jon that she’d been pretty sure Tyrion would say no to that. Either he was in all the way or not at all. 

“Do you need me tonight?” she asked wearily. 

“Are you up for it?”

She sighed and nodded. 

“Sansa, did you tell me everything about you and Baelish?”

She nodded, but didn’t look at him. 

“If you want out of this,” he began. 

“No. I want him gone. And I want him to know that I helped bring about his demise.”

“I’m putting more guards with you.”

Sansa arched a brow. “Worried about me?”

Now Tyrion looked weary. “Yes. Now why don’t you go get some rest? If you’re gonna do this I want you sharp tonight.”

She stood and saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain.” She started for the door when Tyrion said her name. She turned and looked at him in question. 

“That boy isn’t going anywhere, Sansa,” Tyrion told her. “You know I was really pulling for you and Jaime, but I can’t deny how Jon looks at you and how you look at him. He was willing to walk into the lion’s den for you. That is not the action of a man that sees this as a passing fancy.”

“I believe that Jon loves me. And it might last a year, two years, three…but he’s going to figure it out in time. He’s gonna get sick of worrying about me. He’s going to realize that I don’t have much to offer. He’s so smart, Tyrion.”

“So are you.”

“Not like him.”

“What? Book smart? Jon doesn’t strike me as someone that’s entirely happy with his job. He talks about it with a level of disdain.”

“I don’t even have my high school diploma.”

“Get your GED.”

“Now you sound like him.”

Tyrion arched a brow. “Do I?”

“We were talking about what we’d be if we weren’t doing what we were doing,” she said with a shrug. 

“And what would you do, Sansa?”

She smiled fondly. “I think I’d be a veterinarian. I like animals.”

Tyrion smiled. “I could see that.”

Her smile widened. “Could you?”

He nodded. “Yes, I could.”

She sighed. “Well, I better get some sleep.”

Tyrion nodded and watched her go. He sat there for a long while, staring at the closed door and thinking.


	24. Chapter 24

“No lover boy tonight?” Jaime asked as Sandor drove them to the bar that night. 

Sansa pushed down her skirt in an attempt to cover herself more. She didn’t know why she bothered, the skirt was short as fuck and no amount of pushing it down was going to help. 

She didn’t answer Jaime. 

“I thought for sure he’d be here tonight all ready to play the white knight,” Jaime continued. 

“He won’t be working for Tyrion,” Sansa said as she stared out the window. Her phone was in her purse, on vibrate, and she could feel it every so often vibrating against her thigh. She knew it was Jon. She knew he was wondering what she was doing and where could he find her. She felt guilty avoiding him like this, but telling him was not an option. And, since she needed to get her head in the game, talking to him and arguing with him about why he couldn’t know where she was going wasn’t an option either. 

Tyrion told her when she expressed her concern over Jon possibly showing up to find out where she was that he would not get inside the gate. 

Still, Sansa worried. And she had enough to worry about tonight without worrying about Jon, too. 

“What happened? Did the little puppy decide he wasn’t yet ready to run with the big dogs?” Jaime asked. 

Sansa looked at him. “You’re acting like a child.”

“Did he back out?” 

“After much convincing, yes.”

Jaime fell silent and stared straight ahead. “You asked him to quit before he even started.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Sansa didn’t reply. She looked out the window instead. 

She could feel his eyes on her. “Do you love him?” he asked quietly. 

“I care about him,” she replied softly. 

“So, yes. You love him.”

She said nothing again. 

“All this time I’ve been waiting for you to figure out he doesn’t fit in your life. That he can’t,” Jaime said. “And then he goes and tries to make himself fit and I think – well, this can’t possibly last. He’ll see what it’s all about and he’ll toddle off like the good little Boy Scout he is.”

“Jaime—”

“But you asked him not to join because you went and did the stupid thing and fell in love with him.”

She looked at him sharply. “Why is it stupid?”

“Because he’ll break your heart. No matter how this shakes out, Sansa, he’ll break your heart.”

“How do you figure?” she asked quietly. 

“He won’t be able to stand it, wondering what could happen to you when you’re working. It’ll drive him mad. And if came to pass that one day he managed to work for Tyrion he’d either get himself killed or he’ll grow to hate you for putting your life and his in danger.”

“How could he grow to hate me for the thing he chose?” she asked softly. 

“It’s the power you have, my dear. The power over men like Jon who just can’t help themselves when it comes to you. You’re exciting and your life appears thrilling. You keep them all waiting for more, have them all panting for it, but then they realize that underneath that pretty face and incredible body is someone cracked with a hollow inside.”

“If that’s what you think of me, then why would you want to be with me?”

He smiled in the dark of the car at her. “Because only another cracked and hollow person can understand another cracked and hollow person.”

“I’m not hollow, Jaime,” she murmured, but even she didn’t believe that. 

“Oh? Is that what he’s made you believe? He comes from a different world, Sansa. He comes from a world where everything has been handed to him. He’s never had blood on his hands to fight for the things he’s wanted like we have. He has his head in the clouds. He probably believes that love can conquer all, and he probably believes that he does love you because of the secrets he’s discovered between your thighs—”

“Shut up, Jaime,” she snapped. “Your bitterness and your jealousy is showing.”

“Maybe so, but he _will_ break your heart. That I know for certain. And then what will become of you?”

Sansa looked away from him, jaw clenched tight. Jon did love her, she knew he did. But she also knew that it wouldn’t last. Nothing lasted forever, and someone like Jon couldn’t last long in her world. He was a man that had a lot to offer and she was a woman that had to keep a lot of secrets. 

God. She was cracked. She was hollow. 

And Jon made her feel that she had more. He made her _want_ more. 

But she was stuck in this life so it didn’t matter what more she wanted. She’d chosen her path a long time ago. It was too late for her. 

So yeah, maybe he would break her heart. But it had already been broken when he got there, so really, how much more could really shatter? 

xxxxxxxxxx

Sansa hadn’t been at the bar for a half an hour when Ramsay Bolton came waltzing in the door, his eyes trained right on her. She wasn’t surprised. Nothing surprised her much anymore when it came to dealing Tyrion’s enemies. 

Jaime, across the bar, was on alert. She could practically feel Gendry and Tormund boring holes into her as Ramsay came over and handed her an envelope. 

“Is this laced with anthrax?” she asked him. 

He rolled his eyes. “No, bitch, it’s not.”

Sansa glowered at him. “Your black eye is healing up nicely.”

“Fuck you. Take the envelope.”

She did. He watched her.

She opened the envelope with hands she forced not to shake and pulled out two pictures that made her heart pound and her palms grow sweaty. One was of her and Jon together from just the night before on Dany’s yacht. The other was of just Jon, outside the building where he worked. 

Calmly, she put the pictures back in the envelope and looked at Ramsay. “Are you going to take me to him now?” she asked. 

“It’s not time yet. But he wanted you to know he’s watching. And to be ready.”

“Were you going to take me to him the night you got your ass handed to you?” she asked. “Is that why you drugged me?”

He glared at her, but didn’t answer. 

“What is he waiting for?” Sansa asked, feeling her temper and fear start to get the better of her. That wasn’t a good thing to do on the job. 

“For the perfect time I guess.”

“Tell him to stop being a fucking wuss and show himself,” she spat. 

Ramsay walked away with a smirk and Sansa went after him. A big burly man stepped in her path and just looked down at her. She glanced over at Jaime. He’d gotten up too, and there was someone blocking his path. She glanced over at Tormund and Gendry. It was the same with them, someone blocking their path. Innocent bystanders looked on with fear. 

It hit Sansa hard in the gut that Petyr had definitely been watching all along. Probably for a while. He’d done his research that much was clear. 

“Tell him I’m not into playing his games,” she told the man. “If he wants me, then he can come and get me.”

The man just stared back at her. Sansa sat back down – as did Jaime, Tormund, and Gendry. She ordered a drink and downed it quickly. After ten minutes had passed she got up, as did Jaime, Tormund, and Gendry. This time there was no interference. Ramsay was gone by now, his trail cold. It was clear that Petyr was calling all the shots and was one – maybe several – steps ahead of them. 

xxxxxxx

It was late, almost 2 am, when someone knocked on Jon’s door. He knew instinctively it was Sansa, and he got up from the couch, bleary-eyed from not being able to sleep. He was angry with her for not responding to him, and angry at Tyrion for blatantly ignoring him when he’d showed up at the house.

All night he’d been a combination of worried and pissed off and while one would have thought that was enough to make him fall easily into sleep, he hadn’t been able to. Every time he closed his eyes he saw some slimeball with his hands on Sansa. Or Sansa being dragged off by some faceless prick and Jaime and Sandor unable to help her. 

He wanted to hold her and never let her go, and he wanted to scream at her for not keeping her promise to keep him in the loop. 

When he saw her, he stopped short. She looked as weary as he felt. There was worry in her eyes, and her makeup was smudged under her eyes. She was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, a hood over her head. 

“What happened?” he asked as he stepped aside to let her in. 

She pulled an envelope out from under her sweatshirt and handed it to him. When he saw the pictures of them, and the one of him, his eyes went wide. He looked at her. “I…I don’t understand.”

“I put you in danger,” she said softly. She sounded as though she’d been crying. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I went out tonight, but I’m sure you figured that part out already.”

He clenched his jaw and nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, Ramsay Bolton came in and handed this to me. I asked if he was going to take me to him now, and he said no. It wasn’t time yet. I asked when it was time and he said he didn’t know. But that he’s watching, and he’s waiting for the ‘perfect time’. I told him to tell Petyr to stop being a fucking wuss and show himself. Ramsay left and I made to go after him, to follow him and hope he’d lead me to Petyr.”

“Jesus Christ, Sansa,” Jon swore. 

“This big dude got up and blocked me. And there were others. They blocked Jaime and Tormund and Gendry. I had to stay. We all had to. They didn’t want us going after Ramsay, and they knew who we all were. He’s been watching, Jon. He’s been watching for a while. Enough to know who you are and that you mean something to me.”

“Then I’ll help. I’ll—”

“No, you won’t. You’re not going to do anything. Tyrion is going to have guards on you. They’ll be watching in case someone goes after you. You won’t know they’re there.”

“Guards. You’re going to have guards on me.”

“Yes. I’m sorry for this. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Her eyes welled up in tears. “I just wanted you to know. Your guards are outside. Their names are Tim and Westley.”

“Sansa.” He reached for her and she walked away from him, digging her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt. Jon put the envelope and pictures on the seat of the couch. 

“Tyrion is going to send in a few more people to try and find Petyr,” she said. 

“And what are you going to do?”

“Well, what I want to do and what Tyrion will allow me to do are two different things.”

“Do I dare ask what you want to do?”

She looked at him. “If he wants me then I want him to come and get me. I want an end to this.”

“No, no. Absolutely not.” He strode over to her and took her in his arms before she could move away from him. “Why didn’t you call me? You promised.”

“And risk him possibly hurting you to get to me? No. He knows who you are, Jon. He knows you mean something to me and sending me that picture was him letting me know he’s been watching and that he’s coming. If I don’t comply he’ll hurt you.”

“He won’t hurt me. I won’t let him.”

“Jon, you don’t know this world.”

“You won’t let me in to learn it!” he exclaimed, pulling back to look at her. 

“I don’t want you killed. Can’t you see that I want to protect you?”

“And if something happens to you? How do you think I’ll do then?” he asked and took her face in his hands. “I’m not afraid of Petyr—”

“Well, you should be!” She pushed away from him. 

“Don’t push me away, Sansa.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe. I don’t know what he’s going to do. He could decide on a whim to hurt you anyway.” She started to cry then. “I don’t want you hurt, Jon.”

Jon pulled her into his arms and kissed her, one hand at the back of her head. “I won’t be, Sansa. I’m going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” she said, her voice cracking as she cried. 

“You have two guards on me, right? I’m going to be fine. I have a gun. I’ll carry it with me.”

“Let’s say this time it all works out okay. There will be a next time. And a time after that and a time after that. I can’t allow you to be in danger because of me, and I don’t want to wake up one day and find that you hate me because you’re sick of it—”

“Stop,” he said harshly. “Don’t even try to end this. I won’t let you.”

“Jon, please, I love you too much to put you in danger—”

“ _Sansa_ ,” he rasped, his eyes going wide. 

“What?”

“You said it. You said you love me.”

She stared at him, brows furrowed, and then her expression cleared. “You already knew that.”

“But you said it,” he whispered and kissed her. He pressed his forehead against hers. “If you think you’ll get rid of me now…” He kissed her again and again and then lifted her in his arms. Her legs went around his waist and he walked them to his dining room table and put her on top of it. 

Frantically, they pulled at each other’s clothes until they were in a pile on the floor. Jon made sure she was ready for him and then he entered her quickly, needing her wet heat surrounding him. 

“I love you,” he panted. “I love you and I’ll never let you go.”

“Jon,” she whimpered as he thrust hard and fast inside her. Her nails dug into his shoulders and her legs spread wider for him. 

“Tell me you love me,” he begged. “Say it.”

“I love you,” she whispered. 

His hand went to her nub. He needed her to come before he did. When she cried out and tightened around him, Jon let go, filling her with his seed. She clung him, her sweat slickened body pressed tightly against his. 

Jon held her close against him, murmuring his love to her in her ear. Then he lifted her again and carried her to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sure hope this came out okay....it took me a while.


	25. Chapter 25

Sansa wanted to take a shower and so Jon joined her. It wasn’t sexual, though he did get hard. Naked Sansa with him in the shower? How could he not get hard? And Naked Sansa _who loved him_ in the shower. But this wasn’t about sex. It was about taking care of her. It was about being the one she needed after her job wrung her dry. 

So, he washed her hair and her body. He told her he loved her. Then he dried her off and put her in one of his t-shirts and then slipped into bed with her after she’d brushed out her hair and plaited it.

She snuggled right into him as if he were her shield. He wanted to be that for her, too. 

“I’d be a good veterinarian,” she murmured. “I think I’d get attached though. I would bawl like a baby if I had to put an animal down.”

Jon smiled and kissed her forehead. “Maybe if you weren’t the only vet you could have them do it.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. If I had my own practice, I could slip it in there that they’d have to be in charge of that.” 

“What animal do you want to work with most?”

“Cats. And ducks.”

“Ducks.”

She giggled. “Yes, ducks. I love ducks. We had some when I was little. Robb found these ducks one summer without a mom and he got me and my Dad and my Mom to help him get them to our house. I loved those ducks. We even named them.”

“What were their names?”

“Well, of course there was the obligatory Daffy and Donald. And then Tigger and Waddles and Huey, Dewey, and Lewy.”

“You had quite the brood,” Jon said with a laugh. 

“We did. And horses, I’d like to work with horses. I want to make house visits, too.”

“What can we do to make this happen then?” 

She sighed. “Get me a new life?”

“I want that for you,” he murmured. “I want you to have the life that _you_ want.”

She shifted in his arms so she could look up at him. “You could make me stuff for my practice. Like those really long awesome benches for people to sit on. And chairs. A desk. Bookshelves. Jon, I want bookshelves, will you make me bookshelves?”

He laughed and kissed her, unable to resist how adorable she looked getting so excited about the prospect of them both living out their dreams. “If I had access to a place in which I could make you bookshelves, I would,” he told her. 

She yawned and snuggled back into him. “You’re so good to me,” she mumbled tiredly. “I’m sorry I’m so difficult.”

“You’re not used to having someone take care of you is all,” he murmured. “You’ll get used to it. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I want to take care of you, too.”

“You do. You go to great lengths to protect me.”

“Hmm, I suppose I do. We’ll talk about that more in the morning.”

He kissed her forehead again. “Goodnight, Sansa.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

He smiled. Damn, but he liked the sound of that. 

xxxxxxx

The next morning when Jon woke he immediately reached out for Sansa only to find her side of the bed cold. He shot up, hoping she hadn’t left him and found her sitting in the middle of his floor with his gun in her hands. The bullets were on the carpet next to her. 

She looked up at him. “You said you had a gun. I wanted to find it.”

He frowned. “How many places did you look before you found it?”

“Two.” She put the gun down and held up a key. “And I found this. You have a hidden safe?”

“How did you know that?”

“It looks like a safe key. Or a key for a locker at the gym, but why would that be with your gun?” She stood and looked around his bedroom. “Where is the safe?”

He arched a brow. “Since you found my gun so easily I think I’ll make you find the safe.”

She grinned. “Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” She put her hands on her hips. “I figure I’ll start in here…”

“Come here first, my little thief,” Jon said and reached out to her. 

Sansa grinned and climbed up on the bed and then over to him. She straddled him and he drew her face down to his for a kiss. She laced their fingers together and then pushed him back against the headboard. She kept their fingers entwined and looked down at him thoughtfully. “Why do you have a gun?”

“My family is rich and paranoid. Guns were just already around, and when I was old enough I had my own and took lessons. I occasionally visit a shooting range to practice and to blow off steam.”

“Are you good?”

“You mean can I hit a target? Yes.”

“Bulls-eye?”

He chuckled. “Yes. Not always, but often enough. You?”

“Before Tyrion I just carried by trusty little bodice knife. I call her Stella. Don’t tell anyone I told you that. Not that I have the knife, they all know that, but that I call her Stella. Jaime would never let me live that down. Anyway, Tyrion bought me a gun and made me take lessons. And he makes us all practice, too.”

“You have a bodice knife? I take it that means you hide it in your bra?”

She smiled. “Yep, it nestles right between my breasts.”

Jon leaned forward and nuzzled the spot between her breasts. “Right here?” he murmured. 

“Let me show you…” she said and let go of his hands to whip off her shirt, leaving her bare for him. She tangled her fingers in his hair and drew him to the space he’d been nuzzling. “Yeah, right there…”

Jon groaned and licked that space. Then he turned his head and sucked at her nipple. Sansa squirmed against him. He was hard and straining in his boxers. With a grin, she pulled away from him and he made a sound of disapproval. She pushed him back to the bed and moved down so that she was at his feet. After pulling the covers away from him, she pulled his boxers down, mindful of his hard cock. 

And then she stretched out beside him, diagonally, and took him in her mouth. 

His hips bucked upward and he gasped, “Sansa.”

She grinned and then hummed and he moaned as she began to bob her head up and down his cock. She felt his hand on her back, then her side, and then on her ass. 

She shifted her body at an angle and Jon sat up further and reached over, finding her pussy with his fingers. He stroked her and then pushed one finger inside her slowly. Then two. 

Sansa moaned and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock and then flattened her tongue and rubbed the bottom back and forth over her tongue. 

“Jesus fuck, Sansa,” he rasped. “I need inside you now, sweetling.”

She looked at him as she took him deeper into her mouth. 

“Sansa, please!” he begged as he took his fingers out of her. “I want to be inside you when I cum.”

She sucked him one last time with a pop and then asked, “How do you want me?”

“Ride me.” He sounded desperate. 

She smirked and climbed on top of him, straddling him. She leaned forward and kissed him while rubbing his cock between the crack of her ass. Jon reached down and gripped said ass and adjusted her over him. 

Slowly, Sansa slid down his length and watched him intently as she did. His eyes never left hers. She set a slow pace that she knew was slowly killing him. His hands gripped her ass tightly and she knew he’d probably leave marks. 

“Jon,” she purred, “I want you to do something for me.”

“Name it,” he said, sounding like a man on the edge of losing control. And she wanted him to. 

“I want you to smack my ass.”

His eyes widened and he froze. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Sansa—”

“You can do it.”

And then he did. Sansa rewarded him by gliding down his length hard and fast. He gasped and then swore. 

“Do it again,” she said and glided up his length. “Other side.”

He did. She sat back down hard and fast and then leaned forward to kiss him. Jon used her position to lift his hips and stroke into her rapidly, causing Sansa’s mouth to fall open as he hit her just right. 

And then he pulled out, earning a cry of need from her. He rolled her onto her back and grinned down at her. “You’re not the only one that can tease,” he said and then kissed her quickly before slamming back inside her and causing her to shout out – not in pain, but in pleasure and ecstasy. He gripped her knees and pushed them back towards her chest, allowing him to go deeper inside of her. 

“Oh my God, you’re so deep inside me,” she groaned. “Oh, right there, Jon, right there!”

Sansa’s hands went back to the headboard and she held on tight as Jon set a brutal pace that she met with thrusts of her own. They were rutting like animals and she loved it. Loved him. She came hard, her mouth opening in a silent scream and her eyes shutting tight. 

“Oh, fuck yes, Sansa, sweetling, yes, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Jon moaned as he held himself inside her and came. “Oh, God, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much…”

He fell against her and she ran her fingers through his sweat-drenched curls and down his slick back as he twitched and jerked. Little spasms still rocked their way through her and she was happy to have him to hold onto. And she did, twining not only her arms, but her legs around him. 

“I love you, Jon,” she whispered in his ear and he trembled again. 

“So I didn’t dream you said that,” he murmured. 

She smiled and nipped at his ear. “Nope.”

He rolled off of her and pulled her with him so that she lay against him, her head on his chest while he lay on his back. His hand stroked up and down her back while she made nonsensical patterns on his chest and abs with hers. 

“Oh, I should probably tell you,” she said after a while. “Your cousin sent you a text earlier. I put your phone to vibrate so you could sleep and it buzzed several more times afterwards. I’m sure she’s blown up your phone.”

Jon groaned. He didn’t want to speak to Dany. He didn’t want to deal with the outside world at all. Here, in his home, they could forget that some pervert was after her and had threatened him. They could forget that she worked for a mobster and he worked for his control-freak cousin. 

He knew they were things that they had to deal with, but he just didn’t want to. 

“Jon? Are you home?” came a feminine voice from downstairs.

They both froze. Sansa shot up in bed and looked down at him. “Is that—?”

Jon sighed. “Dany? Why yes. Yes it is.”


	26. Chapter 26

After Jon quickly dressed and went downstairs to see Dany and hopefully send her on her way, Sansa dressed quickly and quietly as she listened to their conversation. 

“I was worried about you,” Dany said. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? What are you doing? You hardly ever miss work and then not answer your phone!”

Sansa bit her lip as she peered over the railing. Dany was quite pretty. Beautiful really, and short. Her hair was so blond it was nearly white and she was so tiny. The kind of tiny most women would give their left arm for. 

“Dany, I’m fine. I had my phone shut off,” Jon explained, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “I had a late night.”

Dany looked up then and saw Sansa. Their eyes locked. Dany frowned disapprovingly. “You must be Sansa,” she said. 

Sansa started for the stairs and made her way down. When she got to the bottom, Dany had her arms folded across her chest and was looking at Sansa as though she was a bug under her shoe. Jon held out his hand to Sansa, but Sansa wasn’t about to use him as some kind of shield. 

Instead, she walked right up to Dany and held out her hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Daenerys. I’m Sansa.”

Dany looked at her hand with a curl of her lip. 

“Dany,” Jon said warningly. 

Dany took Sansa’s hand and shook it quickly and then dropped it. “I can’t say it’s nice to meet you, Sansa. Not after I got a call from Tyrion this morning letting me know that Jon could be in danger.” She turned to face Jon. “This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, Jon. This is exactly why I wanted you to stay away from her. She has put you in danger!”

Sansa had always thought when she met Dany that it would shake out a bit like this. Dany would let it be known that she was not pleased about her presence in Jon’s life, Sansa would tell her she wasn’t going anywhere and that would be that. Dany might not ever accept her, but it wouldn’t matter. Or so Sansa thought in her head. The reality was no, she didn’t much care for Jon’s cousin and the opinions Dany held of her, however, she couldn’t really argue this point with Dany. 

She had put Jon in danger. And it still bothered her despite the avowals of love and the hot sex both last night and that morning. Sansa opened her mouth to tell Dany she was absolutely right but Jon cut her off. 

“Sansa didn’t put me in danger, Dany,” he said. 

Both Dany and Sansa looked at him in question. 

“She’s not responsible for the actions of some perverted fuck,” he said. “He’s the one that took the photos and sent them.”

“And it is because of her that he did it,” Dany said and gestured to Sansa. “This is what happens when you involve yourself with a mobster, Jon. You put your life in danger.”

“Wait,” Sansa said. “Wasn’t your husband a mobster, too?”

Dany sent her a death ray glare, but Jon nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “And it didn’t stop her.” He looked at Dany and leaned toward her. “It’s not going to stop me either. I love Sansa and she loves me and that’s the end of it.”

 _Wellllll_ …. Sansa thought. 

“Besides,” Jon continued, “What Baelish wants has nothing to do with the business, Dany.”

Dany arched a brow. “Oh?”

“Did Tyrion tell you he put guards on Jon?” Sansa asked. 

“He did. I told him not to bother. I have my own to put on Jon,” Dany told her. 

“I’m not sure that will stop him—”

“I don’t care. Jon is my family. Family protect each other. Do you understand that at all, Sansa? Do you have family?”

“I do,” Sansa said and lifted her chin. 

“I’m not talking about Tyrion’s family,” Dany said. “A family of your own. The ones that will truly have your back, because at the end of the day the Lannisters are not your family. If it came down to saving his hide or yours, Tyrion will save his every. Single. Time. Who do you have to save yours?”

“Me,” Jon said. “Leave her alone, Dany.” He came over and grabbed his cousin’s arm. “In fact, I think it’s time you leave.”

“You can’t be serious,” Dany argued. “You’re kicking me out?”

“You’ve checked on me. You see that I’m fine. You made your big stink and now you can go before you say something you’ll regret.”

“Me? I’m not going to regret anything I say to her, Jon.”

“You will if it results in me not talking to you anymore.”

Both Sansa and Dany looked at him with wide eyes. Jon opened his door. “See you tonight, cousin,” he said. 

Dany gathered her composure, shot Sansa and glare, and then left. Jon slammed the door behind her and sighed. He looked over at Sansa. “I’m sorry for that,” he said. He started to walk toward her, but Sansa shuffled away and he stopped. “Sansa?”

“She’s not exactly a peach, but she’s not wrong,” Sansa said. 

Jon shook his head. “We’re not going to start with that again.”

“I just think some distance until Petyr is caught is not a bad idea and—”

“No. You need me right now, Sansa. And I need to know that you’re safe.”

This was a topic they were clearly never going to see eye-to-eye on. She sighed in frustration and raked a hand through her hair. “What’s tonight?”

“The charity ball.”

Sansa blew air of out of her mouth forcefully, causing her lips to vibrate. “I forgot.”

“I’m reminding you.”

Sansa snorted. “Dany hates me, Jon. She’ll probably have me escorted off the premises.”

“Then she’ll have to send me away, too. You’re my girlfriend and I want you there.”

She forced herself to smile. “I did buy a killer dress.”

He smiled and started toward her, his movements slow and cautious as though afraid she’d bolt. Sansa couldn’t blame him there. It did seem to be her MO. She supposed it would be a difficult habit to break considering this – what she and Jon shared – wasn’t anything she’d ever had before. She was still unused to the devotion Jon displayed for her. And, honestly, it was a bit uncomfortable for her. She’d spent so long thinking she wasn’t worth much – a combination of what Petyr had done to her plus a life spent on the streets had done a number to her. And what Dany had said was true to an extent, and it bothered Sansa just how much: if the shit came down Tyrion would save his own ass over hers. 

And, truthfully, she would save hers over his, too.

It was a sad conclusion to come to. It showed her just how alone she really was and how her place in the Lannister family was transient. It wasn’t real. Sure, she did care about Tyrion and she knew he cared for her, but if she was faced with, say, prison time, she couldn’t honestly say she’d sacrifice herself and put herself in prison to save Tyrion. And she knew he wouldn’t sacrifice his own freedom for her. 

The only people she’d ever sacrificed her own happiness for were her brothers, whom she didn’t even see, and her sister. She wanted them happy and safe, and so she stayed away. She wanted Jon safe too, and was willing to walk away to ensure that he stayed that way. 

He was just making it quite difficult for her to do so. 

Jon pulled her into his arms and Sansa sank into him, her eyes welling up in tears. This was new too. This crying thing. And it was uncomfortable as fuck. 

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” Jon asked gently as he stroked her hair. 

“Just…stuff.”

“Please tell me that it doesn’t have anything to do with what Dany said.”

A sob escaped her. “I miss Bran and Rickon. I miss Arya.”

Jon pulled back to look at her and he wiped her tears away gently with his thumbs. “Sweetling, when this is all over why don’t we see them?”

“I don’t know where Arya is…”

“Then we’ll find her. I’ll hire someone outside of Tyrion – we’ll find her. And you know where Bran and Rickon are. I’m sure they miss you, too.”

“They might not even remember me.”

“We can find that out, too. Did their adoptive parents say you couldn’t keep in touch?”

“No,” she said and sniffed. “They said I was welcome any time.”

“We’ll go, okay? I’ll come with you so you don’t have to do it alone.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

He frowned. “Sorry?”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” she said. “I just mean that you’re so fucking good to me when I make things so difficult for you. I’m such a fucking mess.”

“You’re not a mess. You’re just figuring some things out I think. Like I said last night you’re not used to someone taking care of you.” He smiled gently and kissed her. “I’ll make sure you get used to it.”

 _Please don’t ever leave me, Jon_ , Sansa thought as she wrapped herself around him. _I don’t know what I’ll do when that day comes._

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said.

She wiped her nose on his shirt and he laughed. “Yeah?” she asked. 

“Let’s go to the shooting range and pop off a few. For practice.”

She had a feeling it wasn’t just ‘for practice’. “Petyr…”

“We can’t live in fear, Sansa. I won’t. The guards – whoever they are at this point – will be with us. I’m not going to stay inside because of Petyr Baelish. I doubt he’ll do anything in broad daylight anyway. He seems more the cloak and dagger type. Under the cover of night and all that rot.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

He grinned and kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” _More than you know, and more than I ever thought possible._


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's dress: [](http://s1132.photobucket.com/user/Janina44/media/green-dresses-for-women-2_zpskoicviys.jpeg.html)

Jon was a good shot. Better than Sansa would have thought. It forced her to up her game. He gave her some pointers, too. 

“I have a question,” Sansa asked when they’d left the shooting range. 

“What’s that?” Jon asked as they made their way to his car. 

“Is it wrong that talking shop with you like this got me completely hot?”

He stopped abruptly and then yanked her into his arms. “No,” he growled and kissed her soundly. “There is some time before the ball…”

Sansa shook her head and pushed out of his arms. “No, nuh-uh. I need to make myself beautiful for you.”

“I’m pretty sure you could show up in a burlap bag and I would think you the most beautiful woman in the room.”

She arched a brow. “Just the room? I want the whole world, Jon.”

“Let me take you home and make love to you and it’s yours.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Nope.” 

He groaned, but agreed to take her home. In the passenger side of his car she flipped her visor down and checked to make sure the new – and old – guards were following them. They were. She flipped the visor back up and looked over at him. “Does it bother you at all? Having guards?”

He frowned. “It’s weird, I won’t lie. I don’t necessarily think I need it—”

“You do.”

“—but it makes you feel better so I’ll deal.”

“Having skills with a gun is not bad to have, Jon, but there are other things relating to self-defense that are also good to have.”

“Like, say, Krav Maga?”

She looked at him. “You’re trained in that?”

He nodded. 

“You never told me that.”

“You never asked.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to share with the class?”

“I just want you to understand that I’m not a helpless puppy, Sansa.”

She pursed her lips together. “There’s a difference between practicing things like that, being trained in them even, and then having to put them to use.”

“If you’re wondering whether or not I can think on my feet, I can. Did I ever tell you about the time I was almost mugged?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Almost. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you were able to stop them?”

“Knocked the fucker out.”

“Impressive.”

“Why do you sound the very opposite of impressed?”

“Because I have a funny feeling where this is all leading and the answer is still no.”

“Why can’t it be my choice?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Because you’re not thinking clearly.”

“How am I not thinking clearly?”

“You’re in the throes of love. The beginning of a relationship. I might not have a lot of experience with them, but I know that the beginning of a relationship is the best part. Your synapses are firing off all these good-time feelings, and the rose-colored glasses are on. In a few months or so the shine will come off. You’ll start complaining that I hog the covers at night—”

“I can complain about that already actually.”

“—and the little things you thought so adorable about me will drive you nuts.”

“Why does it sound like you’re already planning our demise?”

“I’m not. I’m just saying that you feel this all-encompassing need to protect me now but you might not feel that way later. I’d rather you wait until later.”

“You think that I’m not going to want to protect you because you hog the covers at night?” he asked. 

“I think you’ll not want to join Tyrion’s organization because…”

“Because…? Because you think that I will stop loving you. You’re not planning our demise, you just think of it as a sure thing.”

Sansa didn’t say anything. Jon pulled into Tyrion’s driveway and parked before the gates. He turned in his seat and looked at her. “Do you not believe me when I tell you I love you, Sansa?”

She sighed. “No, that’s not it. I do believe you.”

“Then what is it? Help me understand.”

“Jon,” she began on a sigh. 

“No, Sansa, you started this. Tell me what you think is going to happen.”

“All relationships come to an end at some point, Jon. Surely you know that.”

He nodded slowly. “But it sounds like you think I’m the one that’s going to do it. End things, I mean. You could be the one just as easily as me.”

She sighed and nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”

“That’s convincing.”

She looked at him. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to tell me why you already think I’m going to leave you.”

“Because you’ll grow tired of me. You’ll realize, just as Jaime said, that this isn’t what you want. You’ll grow tired of my life. The alternative is to let you join it, but then you could get killed and I can’t let that happen. You’re not going to want to saddle yourself with someone that has no real future. You’re a smart man, Jon, and you’ll figure it out.”

“Jaime said,” Jon said and clenched his hand around the steering wheel. “You know, I really hate that guy.”

“Jon—”

“What else has Jaime said?”

“He’s not wrong.”

“Yes, he is, Sansa. He is very wrong. I thought you believed me when I said I love you.”

“I do!”

“But you think it’s just what – a phase? That it has a three-to-six month expiration date? A whole year after one night with you and I didn’t forget you. But you think after spending a few months with you I will want to leave you?”

“I don’t want to argue.”

“I don’t either. I’d rather punch Jaime the fuck out.” He went for the door. “Is he home?”

Sansa grabbed his arm. “Jon, no. Jaime didn’t say anything I wasn’t already thinking.”

“He wants you.”

“He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“No, I think he does. He wants you. I knew it the minute I met him. I saw the way he looked at you. And so he’s playing on your fears – feeding them.”

“He wouldn’t be able to feed them if I didn’t already have them.”

“Then tell me what to do, Sansa. Tell me what I can do to prove to you that I don’t plan to go anywhere.”

“That’s not something you can prove. Not in this moment. Only time can prove that.”

Jon sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He looked out the windshield, frustrated. Just when he thought he’d made progress with conquering her fears and stopping her from pushing him away, she did it again. And now he knew that Jaime fucking Lannister hadn’t been helping matters. 

_Time_ , he thought. Hadn’t he told her as much? That it would take time for her to get used to him taking care of her? He sighed again. “Time then. We’ll give it time.”

She put her hand on the side of his face and leaned in to kiss him. He kissed her back, putting every ounce of feeling into it. She broke away, breathless, and laughed softly. “Someone was trying to seduce me with that kiss.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” he said with a small laugh. He was still irritated, but he didn’t want to continue trying to prove something to her that only time could prove. 

“I need to get ready. What time shall I expect you?”

“Six. Don’t eat. They’ll have dinner there.”

She smiled and nodded and gave him one last kiss before climbing out of the car and heading inside. 

xxxxxxxx

_“What do you want me to do?” Sansa asked Tyrion when she’d gotten inside the house._

_Tyrion, looking particularly pensive, said, “Nothing. I don’t want you out there. Baelish is a threat to you. I have men looking for him. I want you away from this.”_

_Sansa nodded. Relief flooded through her._

_“The guards I had previously put on Jon are now yours since he has his own now, courtesy of Dany.”_

_Sansa nodded again. She could deal with that._

_“I understand you have a function to go to tonight. The guards will be there with you. I’ve already spoken with Dany and she’s agreed to let them in. Go about your business and have a good time, but after tonight I want you to lay low for a while. You and Jon.”_

_“Okay,” Sansa whispered. “So we’ve surpassed yellow and we’re into..?”_

_“Red. Until he’s caught.”_

_“Got it.”_

_“Have fun tonight.”_

_“I’ll try.”_

“Sweetling?”

Sansa pulled her mind from her earlier conversation with Tyrion and looked over at Jon who sat beside her in the limo he’d gotten them for the night. Or rather, in the limo Dany had gotten them for the night. She smiled and ran her eyes over him. He looked so fucking sexy in a tux. She had momentarily thought of a quickie on the seat, but she wasn’t sure her dress would do well with that kind of thing. It was all green, sleek and form fitting, strapless, and loosened at the knees. 

Jon leaned over and kissed her, fingering the top of her dress. “Where are you?” he murmured. 

“I was considering a quickie,” she whispered and then giggled and when his eyes glinted with promise. He’d looked as though he’d wanted to devour her since he’d picked her up.

“I can have them make a few loops,” Jon said and started to lean forward to do just that. 

Sansa gripped his arm. “I decided no.”

He groaned and leaned his head back on the seat. “You enjoy tormenting me. Admit it.” He looked at her, his gaze heated. “You had the plan to torment me on your mind when you picked out that dress.” He ran his hand through her hair which she’d kept free of pins and flattened with an iron. He tugged gently and she leaned in closer to kiss him, but then the car stopped, distracting her. She turned away to see the front of the ritzy hotel the charity ball was being held in flooded with people and flashing cameras. “Wow,” she murmured. 

She felt Jon kiss her shoulder before moving in the seat across from her. The door opened and Jon stepped out and turned, holding out his hand to her. She took it and climbed out. Jon put his arm around her waist and pulled her in close to him. “Don’t let the cameras scare you. Just smile and follow my lead. I’ll get us inside quickly and out of this madness.”

Sansa nodded and they walked forward. She forgot all about checking to see where their guards were in proximity to them in all the hubbub. Photographers shouting Jon’s name as though he was a celebrity on the red carpet caused him to stop and turn, though he didn’t smile. Sansa did and Jon leaned in and kissed her cheek. “My beautiful girl,” he said hotly in her ear. “I can’t wait to tear this off you.”

“Don’t you dare tear it,” she told him. “It was expensive.”

He laughed. “Then I’ll reimburse you and buy you a dozen others I can tear off you.”

“You’re going to make me blush,” she whispered. 

He just grinned and propelled them forward. Up the stairs they went and inside the hotel Sansa had passed by several times and had always wondered about what was inside. She was excited to find out. 

It was glorious. Shiny floors, gold chandeliers, leather sofas in the lobby, and even a fireplace. Jon grasped her hand in his as they made their way to the ball. Tables were scattered about with cream-colored table cloths and a bouquets of red roses. There was a dance floor and a live band, and it all looked so shiny and glittery. 

“Let’s go check in with Dany, and then go to our table,” Jon said.

Sansa nodded and followed him to where Dany stood at the front of the room, surrounded by people. Some were snapping pictures of her, others were clearly hanging on her every word. When she saw Jon she smiled brighter and though her smile faltered a bit at the sight of Sansa, she still kissed Sansa’s cheek as though they were old friends. Even her “Have fun” when Jon told her they were heading to their table seemed sincere. 

The ball began with a speech from the head of the charity Dany was supporting (for homeless and wounded veterans). While the man spoke, Jon put his arm on the back of Sansa’s chair and whispered to her all the things he wanted to do to her when they were alone. She was so turned on by the time the speech was over, she was ready to tell Jon they needed to find a room. 

Dinner came next, and with it small talk with those at the table with them. After dinner, there was another speech – this time from Dany – and then dancing. 

“Sansa, I want you to meet some good friends of mine,” Jon said as a blond man with blue eyes that looked startlingly like Dany and a short, shy looking man with dark hair came up to them on their way to the dance floor. “This is Aegon,” Jon said pointing to the blond, “And Sam,” he said, pointing the dark-haired man. 

Handshakes were exchanged and Sansa learned that Aegon was another cousin of Jon’s and also worked with him. Sam was not related to him, but a close friend. Sansa liked them both. Aegon was a bit of a flirt, she soon learned, and she almost laughed when she saw the look on Jon’s face when Aegon asked her to dance. 

“She has a partner,” Jon told him. “And that’s me.”

“Surely not all night,” Aegon said with a grin and a wink at Sansa. 

“Yes,” Jon said, warning in his voice. “All night.”

Aegon’s laughter followed them to the dance floor. 

Jon swept her up in his arms and moved with practiced ease about the floor. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asked her as they danced. 

She grinned. “Yes, you have. I surmised as much when you told me in great detail all the things you wanted to do to me later.”

He bent his head and whispered in her ear, “Not things I merely want to do. Things I plan to do.”

“Stop it,” she whispered. “I am tempted to find an empty room and let you make good on all those things.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” he murmured. “I want you.” He spun them to the edge of the dance floor and pushed her backwards.

Sansa laughed and put her hand on his chest. “Wait. Let me powder my nose and then we can go.”

He leaned in and kissed her hard, and quickly. He looked over to where Tom and Westley had been sitting all night and waved them over. 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I need guards for the bathroom, Jon.”

“Humor me.”

She sighed, but she didn’t argue with him. The security at the ball had seemed rather tight – no one was admitted without an invitation, and between her new guards and Jon’s guards – whoever the hell they were – she felt quite safe. It was also possible she was also hopped up on the fact that she was all dressed up and out with her boyfriend whom she was completely crazy about. 

Tom and Westley came over and Jon asked them to please escort Sansa to the ladies room. The pair looked at one another and then Tom said, “I’ll go. Certainly she doesn’t need both of us.”

Westley nodded. “I’ll keep watch in the hall just in case.”

Jon kissed Sansa once more and whispered, “Hurry.” Sansa beamed at him and off she went with Tom in tow. 

As they neared the closest bathroom to the ballroom Tom said, “There is another bathroom down the hall and around the corner that I bet will have less of a line.”

Sansa looked at him with an arched brow and he shrugged, looking sheepish. “I scoped them out earlier to see what we were dealing with.”

Sansa shrugged, thinking sure it was weird, but then what the hell did she know about being a guard. So, she followed him to the next bathroom, and he was right. There were less women. She hurried inside, passed through the sitting room and into the actual bathroom itself, and smiled at the other women primping at the mirror. 

She went about her business and when she emerged, she washed her hands, mindful of her dress, and checked her makeup. At this point there only a few women inside with her and she followed them out. She had almost stepped out back into the hall when Tom stepped in front of her and pushed her back inside. 

Sansa went on high alert. “What is it? Did something happen? What’s wrong? Is Jon okay?”

He didn’t answer, just pushed her back into the bathroom and shut the door. “I need you to wait a minute, Sansa.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Sansa demanded. “Just tell me—”

There was a knock at the door and Tom peered out and then stepped to the side. 

And in walked Petyr. 

Her mouth dropped open in shock. 

Petyr smiled. “Hello, Sansa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Aegon and Sam. Finally! I realized I DID mention Aegon in the first few paragraphs of this story. But now just got around to putting him really in it. Oops. He may have a larger part going forward...


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so I reworked this chapter and I think it is better this time. I hope so at least. I changed the end of the last chapter, so please read that before this one. Instead of Sansa just waltzing off to the bathroom alone, she was escorted by Tom, one of her guards. He was working for Petyr and led her right to him...

Sansa looked from Petyr to Tom and then back to Petyr again. Her heart was racing and she was breaking out in a cold sweat. Tom had betrayed her? Betrayed Tyrion? He was working for Petyr? Had all but led her right to him? 

“How did you get in here?” Sansa whispered to Petyr.

“Why I just walked in, Sansa,” Petyr said condescendingly. 

“The ball, asshole,” she snapped. “How did you get into the ball?” 

Despite her tone, her entire body was tense. She thought of her dagger tucked in her stockings at her thigh. Her gun was in her purse. 

Fuck. Her purse was at the table. 

“With all these people, it wasn’t that hard,” Petyr’s gaze slid over her and he licked his lips. Sansa’s stomach turned over. He met her gaze. “If you noticed, I look like part of the hotel staff. Makes it easy to sneak in through the back and blend in.”

She hadn’t noticed. But he was, in fact, dressed as part of the hotel staff. She chalked up the fact that she hadn’t noticed how he was dressed due to the fact that part of her brain had shut down being this close to him again. That wasn’t good. She was trained. She was smart. She knew she had to stay at least three steps ahead, but Petyr…he’d been three steps ahead this whole time hadn’t he? He’d managed to make Tyrion look like a chump. 

“I told Westley, plus Sam and Aegon that I searched this perimeter for anyone that might have snuck in,” Tom said. “I managed to get him in through the back stairs and he’s been waiting in the stairwell until he got the ok from me.”

Sansa looked at him. “Wait – Sam and Aegon are – they are Jon’s guards?”

Tom just inclined his head once. 

“So, Sansa, how have you been?” Petyr asked as he stepped closer to her. Sansa stepped back and his expression darkened. “Stand still.”

“Are you kidding?” Sansa asked and turned to run to the bathroom. 

Petyr grabbed her and Sansa opened her mouth to scream only to have his gloved hand clamp down over her mouth before she could make a sound. He shoved her up against the wall hard, and she momentarily saw stars from the way her head hit the wall, but she rallied quickly. 

Her skin crawled and she felt she might retch when she felt Petyr’s breath against her neck and his body pressed against her back. “You will obey me, Sansa, or I will have Jon taken care of. Is that what you want? For me to have your little boy toy killed?”

Sansa clenched her jaw. “What do you want, Petyr?”

He licked her cheek and she groaned and tried to turn away. Her stomach roiled. Petyr laughed. “You, Sansa,” he said in her ear. “I’ve always wanted you. You got away from me once and nearly ruined me.”

“Ruined you?”

“How do you think it looked when you just took off while under my care?”

“You tried to rape me you son of a—oomph!” She broke off when Petyr pushed her face against the wall harder. She gasped for air. 

“Then you went and warned the guardians Arya and your brothers were with. You have no idea how long it took to clear my name – to prove that you were just a fucked up little girl grieving for her family. The rumors started to fly and I ended up losing my job because of you.”

Sansa wanted to tell him that considering he’d been a high school teacher, that was probably for the best for those girls he could have taken advantage of. 

“I swore I would make you pay for that,” Petyr told her. “And, of course, take what you denied me. You.”

Sansa ground her teeth together so hard she thought her teeth might crack. 

“Are you ready to do what you’re told now, Sansa? Be sure that you want lover boy to live before you answer. His fate is in your hands.”

She nodded as best she could and he finally pushed away from her. 

There was nothing she could do. She was trapped. If she did anything to save herself, Jon would pay the price and she could not let that happen. 

There was another knock at the door and Tom shouted, “Out of order!” 

Petyr held out his hand to her. “We go now.”

“I’m not taking your fucking hand,” she spat. 

“Then lover boy’s brains get splattered—”

She took his hand before he could even finish. He pulled her to him and she recoiled. He smiled at her and she wanted to scratch his smug rat face right off. 

“I have missed you,” he whispered. 

“Fuck you,” she spat before she could check herself. 

He hit her across the face and glared at her. “Behave yourself, Sansa. Apologize now, like a good girl.”

Sansa’s cheek stung from his slap, but she refused to show him fear. She glared at him and said through clenched teeth, “I’m sorry.”

He grinned. “Your apology needs work, but we have some time.” He then opened the door and pushed her out. “Walk normally, Sansa. I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if you make a scene,” Petyr told her. “We’re just having a friendly stroll. Make it look otherwise and, well…”

Sansa walked without assistance, mindful of what would happen if she tried to escape. Tom walked with her on her other side and two men she didn’t recognize, both dressed as part of the hotel staff, came up behind them and followed close behind. Petyr led her further down into the hall, away from the ballroom, and Sansa knew his plan was to escape out the back with her. 

Yep. She was fucked. 

xxxxxxxx

Jon glanced at his watch and frowned. Okay, he knew there were lines for the ladies room, but this was ridiculous. He started to head out of the ballroom to see what was taking Sansa so long when Dany stepped right in front of him. He nodded to her. “Dany.”

Her smile faltered. “You’re still upset with me.”

“I can’t say I’m a huge fan of your inability to let me live my own life.”

“I can’t say I’m a huge fan of your choice in women,” she retorted. 

“You don’t know her. You just don’t like who she’s associated with. Hello kettle, this is the pot. You’re black.”

Dany sighed. “Jon, it’s my job to worry about you and make sure you’re safe.”

“No, actually, Dany, it’s not your job. You can care about me and sure there might be some worry that goes along with that, but you cannot live my life for me. I thought I had made that clear, but apparently not.”

“Jon—”

“I’m just saying that if you want to keep me in your life then you might want to consider backing off and letting me live my own life. You also might want to consider treating Sansa with some respect. She’s not going anywhere.”

Dany arched her brow and shrugged as if to say Sansa would one day be a distant memory.

“She’s the one, Dany,” Jon said softly. “I am going to marry her one day.”

Her eyes went wide and she gaped at him. “You just started seeing her! How in the world can you make that decision now?”

“Because I know she’s the one. Just like Drogo was the one for you.” 

Jon knew she would have a hard time fighting that one. The day Dany met Drogo she knew he was it for her. And he had been – even years after his death. 

Aegon came over then and stood beside his sister. “Everything okay?” he asked, looking between them. 

“Just trying to talk some sense into your thick-headed sister,” Jon told him. 

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that.”

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I am in search of my date,” Jon said and left them to head out into the hall. 

“Mr. Snow.”

Jon spun around and found Westley standing there, looking quite grave. “Where’s Sansa and Tom? Have they returned?”

“No,” Westley said. “I’m afraid he’s gone.”

Worry wrapped itself around Jon like a cloak. “What does that mean exactly?”

Westley looked regretful as he answered. “It means that something is wrong. Sansa could be in danger. I’ve tried to reach him several times since it was taking longer than normal for a bathroom break and I can’t get in touch with him.”

Aegon came up to them again and Jon just looked at him without really seeing him. Sansa was in danger. Something had happened to her. That was all he could think. 

“What’s going on?” Aegon asked. Sam came up beside him. 

“Sansa’s guard thinks she could be in danger,” Jon said. He held up a hand. “I don’t really have time to explain what that means or why so just don’t ask questions right now, please. I need to find her.”

“No explanations necessary,” Aegon said, “Sam and I were assigned to you as of this morning.”


	29. Chapter 29

Sansa glared at Tom as he slid in beside her in the back of Peter’s Durango. He ignored her. Petyr sat in the front next to the driver and another guard slid in on her other side. “We good?” Petyr asked the driver. 

“All set, sir,” the driver said and the Durango leaped forward. Sansa spied a car pulling out slowly to the left of them and she knew it was trailing them. Keeping them protected in case Jon or Westley or Jon’s guards came after them. It was what Tyrion did in cases where danger was at its highest. 

“Where are you taking me?” she asked irritably. “Under a bridge somewhere?”

Petyr smirked and arched a brow as he turned to look at her. “Under a bridge?”

“Seeing as you’re a troll and all.”

“You will have to learn to mind that tongue of yours, Sansa.”

“Oh, will I?”

“Unless of course you want it ripped out.”

Sansa closed her mouth and clenched her jaw. She had a guard on either side of her, a driver, and Petyr in the front. Think, Sansa, think. 

She couldn’t very well reach down and grab her knife. Or maybe she could…but she risked it being taken from her before she could do any damage. 

“In answer to your question,” Petyr said, “How do you feel about Miami?”

“Miami?” she asked, trying not to let panic seize her. “You’re taking me to Miami?”

“Yes,” he replied with a smile that made her stomach turn. “We leave tomorrow morning.”

“How?” she demanded. “You’re really going to risk me in an airport?”

Petyr smiled again. “I have planned for that,” he told her. “We’re not going to take a commercial airline. We’re going to take a puddle jumper to an airport a few cities away where a private jet will be waiting for us, courtesy of a colleague of mine.”

“A colleague? You have colleagues?”  
“Of course I do, darling.”

“Don’t call me that. What is it you exactly do now anyway?”

“Girls, Sansa. I sell girls.”

“So you’re a pimp.”

“Among other things.”

“Just spit it out,” she snapped. “I know you’re dying to brag.”

He laughed. 

“The drugging at The Wall,” she said. “Ramsay Bolton. How does it all work?”

“Well, Ramsay drugged the girls, brought them home, and took photos of them….doing things. We learned that taking photos made them a bit more compliant. And then later we learned that heroine kept them going.”

Sansa looked away from him, feeling that she might very well throw up. “You’re into sex trafficking.”

“If that’s what you wish to call it.”

“What else is there to call it, you sick fuck?” she shouted. 

His eyes flashed and he lifted a hand. “Tom.”

Tom backhanded her so hard Sansa saw stars.

She was going to kill him extra hard for that.

xxxxxxxx

“You’re my _guards_?” Jon asked, his eyes going wide. “Since when?”

“Since this morning,” Aegon said again. 

“No, since when are you guys – you know what? I don’t have time to talk about this right now. Sansa’s in danger and I need to find her.”

Westley stalked off abruptly and Jon followed him. “Where are you going?” he demanded. 

“Security cameras,” Westley said. “Tom said he did a security check but I wonder if that meant he tampered with the cameras in the stairwell.”

“Are there cameras in the stairwell?” Jon asked as he followed Tom down the hall and into the stairwell. Aegon and Sam were right behind them. 

“There are,” Aegon said. “Each of them have a red dot that says they’re on.”

Westley pointed up. “And it appears that they are on.”

“So, he didn’t think of everything,” Jon muttered. 

“I don’t doubt that Baelish is cocky enough not to care that he could have been caught on camera,” Sam said. “His plan was probably to get Sansa as far away from here as possible so that by the time we figured it all out, he would be long gone with her.”

Jon’s hands fisted at his sides. 

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Sam said softly. 

“We need to find out where the footage is being recorded,” Jon said. “We have to see if there is anything at all on them. There are cameras outside, no?”

“There are. Follow me,” Sam said as he headed back out into the hall. “I know exactly where to go.”

“There’s no way he’s taken her to a room,” Aegon said. “He left with her.”

“Then we see if we can figure out which direction he took her in,” Jon said.

“I’m calling the boss,” Westley said and pulled out his phone.

On their way to wherever Sam was leading them however, Dany intercepted them flanked by two rather large men that Jon thought could possibly rip his head off with their bare hands. 

“You’re safe,” she said as soon as she saw Jon, her hand over her heart. 

“Yeah, why do you ask that?” Jon demanded. 

“Because these two saw footage of Sansa getting into a Durango,” she said. 

“You’re security?” Jon asked as he pointed at them both. They nodded in unison. 

“Great,” Jon said. “Did you get a license plate?”

“Not yet,” Dany said. “We’re working on it.”

“Do they fucking talk, Dany?” Jon snapped. He was trying his best to keep his cool so that he could think and focus, but bits of him were unraveling. Sansa was in danger. She was with a man that had once tried to rape her and it was hard not to think about what could be happening to her with each minute that passed. 

“Follow me,” Dany said and she led the way, still flanked by the two men. 

_I’m coming, Sansa_ , Jon thought. _Just hold tight_. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Sansa wiggled her jaw and licked at her split lip. She winced. Fucker had gotten her good. 

“Now allow me to tell my evil plan,” Petyr said. “Are you ready to listen?”

She grunted. 

“What’s that, dear?”

“Yes,” she croaked. 

“As I said we’re to leave in the morning. For the time being, we’ll be in a safe house. The cars will be disposed of just in case Lannister and his minions think they can find us.” Petyr laughed at that. “But I highly doubt he will. He’s failed so far after all.”

Fuck you, you fuckin’ fuck, Sansa thought. She had learned to keep her mouth shut for the time being. 

“When we get to Miami, you’ll tell him that you want to be with me and that he’s not to search for you. You’ll tell him to make sure lover boy gets the message loud and clear.”

Sansa just gaped at him incredulously. Petyr laughed. “You don’t think he’ll believe you? Well, you’re going to have be really convincing, Sansa. Just like you were when you pretended you didn’t want me.”

 _I didn’t!_ she wanted to shout. By the smirk on his face, Petyr knew exactly what she was thinking, too. 

“Make no mistake, Sansa, there won’t be a moment where you are not by my side,” he said. “I let you out of my sight once and I won’t make that mistake again. There won’t be one step you make that I’m not a part of. You will sleep in my bed, you will eat at my table, you are my possession now, Sansa. If Tyrion, Lover Boy, or any of Tyrion’s or Daenerys Targaryen’s men so much as show their faces on my property, I will blow your brains out. If I think for one second they might even so much as try, you’re dead. You make sure they both understand that.”

Sansa forced herself not to show the abject fear that now coursed through her entire being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God I suck at this!! LOL 
> 
> Even if this was horrible, just humor me please lol. It took me forever to get this out.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking this bit by bit to make it right...

Dany led the group to security in the hotel. A fairly large room with small televisions all about switching screens constantly, taping everything in and around the building. 

“Show me the feed of the Durango leaving the hotel,” Sam said to one of the burly men Dany had been with. Silently, the man brought up the feed and they all moved in close to try and see the license plate. The guy pressed a few buttons on the keyboard and paused the footage, zoomed in close, and they all tried to make out the grainy image. 

“I think it’s 154DMC,” Sam said and jotted the number down on a pad he pulled from his pocket. 

“I can run a check at the RMV and see who it is registered to,” Westley said. “Does anyone have a laptop I can use?”

“How about a couple?” Sam asked. “I have access to the security cameras in the city. I can follow that vehicle and hopefully see where it ends up.”

Dany looked at the two security guards and they nodded once and filed out of the room, presumably to get the asked for laptops. 

Jon stood there, feeling utterly helpless and worried. So very worried. Not to mention angry. He was angry at Tyrion for not being more careful with Sansa. He was angry with Dany for being a hypocrite. He was angry at Petyr Baelish for obvious reasons, and he was angry at himself for not following her to the bathroom himself. He never should have let her out of his sight. When he got her back – and there was no question in his mind that he would – he had to – he was never ever letting her out of his sight again. 

“Jon, you don’t look well,” Dany said as she approached him. 

Jon glared at her and jutted out an arm pointing to the cameras. “The love of my life is with some sick fuck who tried to hurt her once. He took advantage of a young girl who had lost her parents and her older brother and had her family split apart.” He pointed at her then. “Don’t you _ever_ fucking say anything about Sansa to me again. You’re part of all of this,” he gestured to the room around them, “and you dare throw stones at Sansa? You leave her the fuck alone from now on. I will choose her over you every time, Dany, so don’t make me do it.”

Dany’s eyes welled up in tears. “I’m sorry, Jon.”

“If he hurts her…” He couldn’t even finish the thought. Dany opened her mouth to speak, but then the two men came in with the requested laptops and set them up for Sam and Westley. 

Jon’s mind raced. “Help me,” he whispered. “Help me brainstorm. Where would he take her?”

“Away,” Dany said. “Far away from here.”

“Would he need a plane or a train to get there?”

Dany frowned thoughtfully. “I’m going to guess that if his plan is to get her away from here, and why wouldn’t he since he knows that you and Tyrion will be hunting him? – then yes. He would take her to a place in which a plane or train would be needed. My guess – he’d take her by plane. A private jet if he has one.”

Jon snapped his fingers. “Then that’s what we’re doing. We’re finding out what we can about any private jets leaving tonight and tomorrow.”

“We need another laptop,” Dany said to one of her men. He nodded and slipped from the room. She looked at Jon as though he should be proud of her for helping. As though he should thank her. He wasn’t ready for that yet. Right now he couldn’t think beyond finding his girl and bringing her home. 

xxxxxxx 

Sansa knew the city like the back of her hand. She’d done enough traveling with Jaime and Sandor to know where she was, but after several turns down back alleys even she found herself a bit disoriented. 

Then they came out onto a street she recognized immediately as being the same street as the bar she’d had to debase herself in trying to draw Petyr out. If his safe house ended up being on the same street –

The Durango swerved into a nearly empty parking garage. 

Yup. They were idiots. All of them. 

_I’m so quitting after this_ , Sansa thought. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about the fact that she might not escape Petyr. She couldn’t. If she went down that road…

She just needed to find a way to get to her knife and hopefully be able to use it in a way that would do the most damage or at least enough damage to get away. It was possible Petyr didn’t even think of the fact that she could be carrying some kind of weapon on herself. He’d been smart, but even he had to make a mistake somewhere, right?

By now Jon knew. And Tyrion. They all did. The question was, how were they going to find her? _No, no_ , she thought. _The question is how are they going to find me without all of us ending up dead?_

Tom all but yanked her out of the car when they parked close to an elevator and on a floor with no other cars on it. Fifth level, Sansa thought, locking that in her mind. And across the street from that seedy as fuck porn shop. The other guard who had been sitting next to her pushed her in the back with the butt of his gun. 

“I’m going as fast as I can, motherfucker,” she spat at him. “I have fucking heels on.” Heels! Another weapon! 

He looked like he wanted to hit her. He shot a look at Petyr as though to ask permission but Petyr wasn’t paying attention to him. 

“Meryn, put a blindfold on her,” Petyr said. 

So, the dude with the gun who wanted to hit her had a name after all. She wanted to say something about how it must be nice to have a woman’s name, but then he probably would get clearance to smack her and really, she’d already come close to having cartoon birds dancing around her head tonight, she didn’t want to actually have it come to pass. 

“Is this really necessary?” she asked as Meryn tucked his gun in the back of his jeans and extracted a black blindfold from his pocket. Roughly he put it around her eyes and yanked on it, causing her head to tilt back. 

“We can’t have you seeing where we’re going, Sansa,” Petyr said as though he was talking to a small child. 

Little did he know that she was prepared for situations like this. Tyrion had made sure of that. He’d taught her to count steps, to be aware of turns, and even how to use her sense of smell. It hadn’t been easy and she’d bitched about it the whole time because it was hard, but Tyrion hadn’t stopped until she’d learned well. 

She fell silent as she was shoved onto the elevator. Okay, this could be a problem. She didn't know how many floors they were going... up! They were going up! _Fucking hell,_ she thought. It stopped, making her wobble a bit on her feet, and then she was dragged out and down what had to be a hall. Her heels clicked against concrete. It smelled wet and damp, and it was thirty feet down, then a sharp turn to the right and then another thirty feet. She felt a splash on her foot. Wet. It was wet. 

And then they stopped, she heard a door, and she was pushed inside. She fell to the floor, carpet. Fucker was lucky. She waited until someone pulled her blindfold free and noticed she was in some kind of living room. There was a couple couches. A TV. A glass coffee table. Beyond that was a kitchen. 

“Is this….is this in the _parking garage_?” she asked. 

“Something like that,” Petyr said and looked down at her. “I need to make sure things are ready to go for the morning. Meryn, Tom, please take our guest to her room and have her change."

Right then. It was go time.


	31. Chapter 31

“There was only one private jet set to leave Kings Landing and it was an hour ago,” Jon murmured to Dany as he scrolled through flights on the laptop that had been brought to him. “I don’t see any for tomorrow.”

He looked over at Dany who was on the phone. She held up her hand, motioning for him to wait. Jon wasn’t feeling so inclined to wait though, even if she was on the phone with an airport finding out information that might not have been on their website. Dany had connections and she was now using them. So, Jon supposed he shouldn’t complain, even if his patience was nil at the present moment. He knew they had to gather information in order to find Sansa, but he just wanted to jump right to her being found and safe in his arms. 

After this he wasn’t ever going to let her go. She was going to marry him, dammit. In fact, he was going to take her far away from here, take her to see her brothers in Winterfell, find her sister Arya and bring the girl to Sansa, and if she wanted to move to Winterfell to be close to her brothers then that’s what they’d do. He could find something else he wanted to do for work, or he’d do what he could from his new residence. 

Sansa wasn’t going to be part of the mob any longer. She was done. She might fight him on this, but it was a fight he was prepared to take on. And so help Tyrion if that man thought to fight Jon on this as well. Jon would pay for her to go to school to become a veterinarian. He would buy her a place to practice – he would do anything and everything he could to make her happy and keep her safe for the rest of their days. 

The door to the security room burst open and in walked Tyrion flanked by Jaime and Sandor. Tyrion looked worried, as well he should be. Jon emitted an inhuman growl as he stood and faced Tyrion. “You did this!” he shouted and pointed at the man. “You made this possible!”

Tyrion didn’t look about to argue with him, surprisingly. Instead, he just looked sad. And worn. “I’m sorry, Jon,” he said. 

But Jon wasn’t about to forgive him, and in fact he wasn’t done. “You put her out there as _bait_ , Tyrion. You made her do your fucking dirty work and you put her in the line of fire. You knew that asshole was gunning for her and you helped him get right to her!” He wanted to hit Tyrion, and in fact, he made to lunge at him just needing to punch him really hard when Jaime and Sandor both stepped in front of him. 

Jon glared at Jaime. “You’ll do,” he spat and punched Jaime in the face. Jaime bodily turned to the side from the force of Jon’s punch. Sandor continued to stand there, unmoving. Jon thought he almost looked amused. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Jaime exclaimed as he straightened and glared at Jon. He held the side of his face. Jon was pleased to know that there would most likely be a nice fat bruise there. 

“You know _exactly_ what that was for,” Jon spat. 

“All’s fair in love and war,” Jaime said with a smug grin. 

Jon punched him again. This time in the stomach. “Jesus fuck!” Jaime shouted as he bent over. 

“Stay away from Sansa. She doesn’t want you,” Jon snapped. “She’s mine, Lannister.”

“You think Sansa would like to hear you talking about her like she’s your property?” Jaime taunted. Jon moved to punch him again, but Sandor grabbed Jaime by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back. “Shut. Your. Gob,” Sandor seethed. 

“Jon, we’ve got men searching the area where we believe Baelish’s headquarters are,” Tyrion said, stepping forward. “They know to keep a low profile so as not to scare Baelish into doing something stupid.”

“You mean like hurt Sansa?” Jon snapped. 

“I wanted her to tell me she couldn’t do it,” Tyrion said softly. “I wanted her to be honest with me and trust me…Sansa is the strongest person I’ve ever met. She acts like she can handle anything and I began to see her as untouchable. She was so determined to get him and yet she was honest with you about how she really felt about it. I wanted her to tell me, to trust me that much. I saw her as family and it was disheartening to learn that she didn’t see me the same way.”

“You put her in danger because you wanted to push a confession from her?” Jon asked incredulously. 

“Also, I thought perhaps since she wasn’t backing down she wanted to face him once and for all. I thought if she was allowed to take him out, it would help heal that part of her past.”

“When she comes home and she will come home, she’s not working for you anymore,” Jon said, pointing at him. 

“Don’t you think that should be Sansa’s decision?” Jaime piped in. 

“Maybe he didn’t punch you enough,” Sandor growled. 

Jon would have laughed under different circumstances.

“All right, there is a flight leaving early in the morning from Casterly Rock,” Dany announced. She came over and stood beside Jon. She nodded to Tyrion. He nodded back. 

“I found them!” Sam announced. 

Jon stormed over to where Sam was and bent over to look at the laptop screen. It was blurry and all he could see was a Durango pulling into a parking garage. Tyrion came over and peered over at the laptop from the other side.

“There are a few parking garages on that street,” Tyrion said. “Can you get some footage of what’s closer so we can narrow it down?”

“Sure can,” Sam said and started tapping away at the screen. 

Jon’s heart sped up. He was anxious. He wanted to scream with every second that passed _“WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!”_ but that wouldn’t help matters. Instead, he started to tap his foot. 

Sam glanced at him and Jon almost shouted at him to not look away from the screen, but he reigned it in. He felt a hand gently press down on the space between his shoulder blades and he knew it was Dany attempting to calm him. _Good fucking luck_ , he thought. 

Images appeared on the screen and Tyrion snapped his fingers. “I know where it is. Okay, I need to call my men.”

Jon looked at Dany. “I need a gun. I don’t want to waste time going to my penthouse. Got one?”

Dany sighed and nodded “I’ll get you one.”

xxxxxxxxxx 

Sansa didn’t like the way Meryn was looking at her. Like she was a juicy morsel and he couldn’t wait to eat her right up. The only thing that possibly saved her from him doing just that was the fact that she was pretty sure Petyr didn’t want his muscle sullying what he considered to be _his_. 

So, that took care of being raped. For now anyway. But as already apparent, they would smack her around if need be and she was pretty sure that reaching for her knife would earn her a beating. 

She was just going to have to be make sure she got them good. Fucking hell. Them. Plural. 

Tom led the way down a narrow hallway and Meryn kept pushing her from behind. It was like he was just asking for his throat to be slit. 

Tom opened a door to the left and stood aside to let her in. Meryn pushed her because she figured he was just fucking helpful like that. 

The room had a bed, a bureau, a plain wooden chair, and a lamp was lit on top of the bureau. That was it. _The lamp could be a weapon, as well as the chair_ , she thought. There was a pair of jeans and a white shirt on the bed along with a pair of sneakers and socks. 

“Well, the room is lacking in accoutrements, but I suppose this isn’t my forever home so I won’t complain too much,” Sansa said. 

“Just shut up and change,” Meryn snarled. 

“With both of you in here?” Sansa asked. “I don’t think so.”

“We’re not leaving this room so get to it,” Meryn growled. 

All right, the last thing she needed was to make a big stink and get Petyr down there. Then she’d have three to contend with and not just one. Meryn and Tom’s guns were still tucked in the back of their jeans so that was something in her favor at least. So, she made her way over to the chair which was next to the bureau with the lamp. She put her leg up on the chair. “I need to take off my garter belt,” she told them. 

“Ah, so we get a little show,” Meryn snickered. 

She was also going to stab him in the heart. 

The side of her leg with the knife was facing the wall so she was able to slip it from its sheath very quietly. When she had it in her grasp, she turned and pretended to knock over the lamp. It crashed to the floor plunging the windowless room into darkness. 

“Son of a bitch, girl!” Meryn growled. “Tom, grab her!”

“I can’t see her!” Tom spat. 

Sansa inched her way to the door where a shaft of light streamed in from the partially closed door. She felt a hand clasp down on her arm and even though she wanted to scream she didn’t. Instead, she plunged the knife forward, hoping to get him somewhere in the chest. 

Tom cried out. Sansa stabbed him again. 

She felt another hand grab her and knew it was Meryn. She stabbed him too and he shouted. Tom had released her, but Meryn was hanging on. She brought the knife down on him, hoping she got his arm. When he cried out again she thought she might. 

But then she got herself too, right in the forearm. Her eyes teared up, but she would not make a sound. Meryn released her just long enough for her to run toward the door. 

And then he grabbed her, hand wet with blood and yanked her back into the room. She stumbled, fell on her rump, and her knife fell from her hand. The door swung open fully and she saw Meryn coming for her. He was going to get her good. 

She looked frantically for the knife and saw it by her foot. She went to reach for it and Meryn stepped on it and then looked down at her with a maniacal grin. 

_Oh, shit._

He took a step toward her. Then another. Sansa kicked up, aiming for his crotch with her heels. She got him. He doubled over and then reached for her and Sansa rolled away, and then managed to grab the knife. He straightened up and swung at her, hitting her in the face. God, he hit fucking _hard_! She gripped the knife so hard in her hand it hurt. She would _not let go_. One never let go of their weapon, not if they could help it. He came at her and Sansa lunged and got him. Right. In. The. Heart. 

His body went slack and he looked at her as though he couldn’t believe she’d done it. She shoved him back and he fell with a hard thud somewhere next to Tom whom, she noted, was bleeding from his throat. 

Sansa went over to Meryn and pushed him over just enough to grab his gun. Now she had two weapons. 

She stood and made her way to the door. Briefly she thought about kicking her shoes off and putting on the sneakers, but decided against it. There was no time. She fully expected Petyr to come running any minute. 

And she was right. 

Just as she got to the kitchen, so did he.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope this does not suck. I am not that adept at action scenes and I was trying to write what I saw in my head and tried to make what I saw in my head seem possible. Ugh.

“Can this thing go any faster?” Jon asked from the passenger seat of Tyrion’s car. Sandor was driving. 

“We’ll get to her before anything happens,” Sandor said. 

“No offense, but why does your trying to comfort me make me worry more?”

Sandor grunted something Jon didn’t hear, but that was fine. He needed to focus on Sansa and finding her. 

“The parking garage used to have businesses behind it,” Tyrion said from behind Jon. “Then all of the business shut down or moved since the area was seen as seedy – and it is – and so they decided to eventually convert it all to one big parking garage, but the project was scrapped due to not enough money for the city.”

“So, Baelish is one of those abandoned business offices is what you’re saying,” Jon said. 

“Yes. And I’m sure he’s done his part to make it habitable for himself.”

“Without anyone noticing?” Jaime asked.

“You know how it is when you can get the cops to look the other way,” Tyrion said. 

“Sandor, seriously, you’re driving slow enough to drive Miss Daisy,” Jon said irritably. 

“Who?” Sandor asked and Jon raked a hand through his hair. 

“We’re almost there, Jon. He’s already going well over the speed limit,” Tyrion told him. 

Jon stopped himself from snapping at him. Instead, he heaved a deep breath and asked. “Okay, so our plan is to just search the area?”

“I’ve got men on it now,” Tyrion replied. “They know to be careful.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if that doesn’t bring me any comfort,” Jon said. So much for not snapping. “Baelish has been several steps ahead of you for some time now. He had someone on the inside working for you and that got Sansa taken.”

That was met with silence, and it stayed that way until they finally reached the goddamn parking garage. 

xxxxxxxx

The motherfucker shot her arm. The arm that held the gun. Sansa had just managed to raise her hand to shoot him when he got her right in the bicep. The gun dropped from hand and clattered to the floor. 

“Mother fucker!” she shouted and went for the gun. Do not stop. Keep going. If you’re hurt, shake it off until they are dead. 

That one Sandor had taught her. 

She remembered saying back – _“And if I get killed walk it off?”_

He’d just looked at her in confusion, which had just caused Sansa to laugh. 

There was no walking off dead. If Petyr managed to kill her now he would win. 

She’d never see Jon again. She wouldn’t have the life he made her want. She wouldn’t have him and she wanted him so badly. So desperately. She was done working for Tyrion. She wanted vet school and a vet practice and Jon. She wanted a house and a white picket fence. She wanted Arya and Bran and Rickon. 

_She wanted Jon and a life with him and the family she had left._

Petyr charged her just as she bent over and knocked her to the floor. The gun went skittering off and she kicked out her leg and got him in the shoulder with her high heel. 

“You fucking cunt!” he screamed. 

He’d lost his gun in the scramble and now he was trying to grab it. Sansa kicked him again, getting him in the side this time and then she lunged for his gun. He tried to knock her away, but she flew out an elbow and got him in the temple. He groaned and stopped moving. Sansa lunged for the gun and grabbed it – 

“Not. So. Fast.”

Sansa looked up and over to the door. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Sansa shouted when she saw Ramsay fucking Bolton standing there with a gun trained on her. 

“Don’t kill her,” Petyr mumbled groggily. Sansa could scarce believe it. Don’t kill her? Why? Because he now had back-up and figured she’d lost?

“What do you want me to do, boss?” Ramsay asked, his cold blue eyes trained right on Sansa. His trigger finger looked a little twitchy. 

“We move. Get her to the car. Where are Kevin and Mark?”

“They thought they heard people. They went to investigate.”

“Fucking Tyrion Lannister’s men no doubt,” Petyr mumbled and got to his feet. He glared down at Sansa kicked her in the side. She cried out and her hold on the gun loosened. 

“Drop the gun, Sansa!” Petyr shouted at her. She gripped the gun tighter and he kicked her again. 

It always amazed Sansa how even in the thick of a dangerous situation your mind could go over the various chain reactions one action could potentially cause. Right now she was thinking that if she shot Petyr Ramsay would shoot her. He could be a bad shot, but he could also be a good one. Could she take the chance?

Then she thought of all the women he’d hurt and ruined. How he’d taken her in after her parents and Robb died with the intent to rape her. How he’d preyed on her. How he’d threatened Jon. How could she let scum like him live even if it meant she died?

He went to kick her again and she jerked her leg out and kicked him. His leg gave out and he crashed to the floor. 

And then she shot him in the face. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Jon heard the gun shots and his heart went to his throat. He wasn’t afraid for himself; he was afraid for Sansa. Were those gun shots anywhere near her? For her? Fucking hell he’d never felt as though he could jump right out of his skin more. 

When they’d gotten to the parking garage a couple of Tyrion’s men had reported to him that they’d narrowed down where Baelish was. They’d drawn a shoddy yet surprisingly helpful map of the hallways, abandoned offices, and elevators, and given them directions on where they thought his safe house was. Sam, Aegon, and Jon went at it from one end, while Tyrion, Sandor, and Jaime went from the other. The idea being to ambush them from both possible sides. 

Another shot went off. 

Aegon stopped abruptly. Jon moved forward to see what was going on and he found Ramsay fucking Bolton standing there with a gun trained on Aegon. “Don’t move,” Bolton said, pointing a gun toward the floor of the room he was standing in the doorway of. 

_Was she on the floor?_ Jon thought. _She has to be. His gun is pointing down not up, not level with his chest, but down. She has to be on the floor._

“If you move I’ll fucking kill her,” Bolton said. 

Jon’s breath caught. 

Just then Tyrion, Sandor, and Jaime came weaving around the corner at the other end and Ramsay was distracted. 

Jon didn’t waste any time. He moved up beside Aegon and took aim. 

He got Ramsay right in the chest, not his heart, but close. He shot again and got him in the stomach. 

Ramsay fell forward to the floor and Jon ran down the hall. He could hear the pounding of Aegon and Sam’s footsteps behind him as well as Tyrion, Jaime, and Sandor running down the opposite hall. 

Jon clicked the safety back on the gun and stuffed it in the back of his pants. He then ran down the hall, stepped over Bolton’s body, and stepped inside. Sansa was there, getting slowly to her feet. Petyr lay dead with a hole in his forehead on the floor beside her. Her dress was bloody and Jon thought he was going to have a heart attack. He rushed forward wanting to touch her, but afraid to touch her lest her hurt her more. “Where?” he demanded. “Where are you hurt?” He was aware he sounded a bit frantic. He didn’t care. 

She staggered to her feet and looked at him, breathing heavy. She’d been hit in the face, Jon could see the bruises forming on her cheeks and eye. And the blood, there was blood coming down her arm in little red streams. 

“Fucker shot me in the arm,” she said. 

“She needs a doctor!” Jon shouted, even though they were all there, swooping in around her. Sansa kept her gaze on him and Jon took her face gently in his hands. “Sweetling,” he gasped. 

And then Sansa fainted.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone!

Sansa didn’t just faint. She passed out cold. Jon figured it had all caught up with her and what she needed was rest. 

Despite the fact that Jon would have rather had Daenerys’s doctors take care of Sansa than Tyrion’s, he knew that Sansa wouldn’t have wanted to wake up in Daenerys’s home. Even if he was there with her. He compromised a bit though. After Tyrion’s doctor took care of her, he had Daenerys’s check that the other one had been thorough. 

Her arm was bandaged up and needed to be cleaned every few hours, and she had some pills for pain and to fight infection to take. Jon didn’t leave her side once. He’d helped the doctor change her clothes. He’d helped him clean her skin of blood from the gun wound and where she’d apparently gotten nicked pretty damn good with a knife. He’d helped bandage her and listened to instructions on how to treat the wound when they changed the bandages. Then he sat with her, keeping vigil over her, and waited for her to wake up. 

While she slept on, Jon took her hand and brought it to his face, kissing her palm and then pressing it to the side of his face. “I love you so much,” he whispered. His eyes stung with tears. Talk about it all catching up with you. He felt it now. It was nearly morning now and though his body was tired, he couldn’t shut his mind off. He’d been so afraid for her. Of her being killed, of her being hurt – and she _had_ been hurt, though there were other ways a person could be hurt and Jon was still worried about that part. 

She’d been so brave. He’d seen not only the body of Baelish but those two other guards she’d obviously taken care of. He felt odd being proud of her, but it was either kill or be killed and she hadn’t hesitated to do what needed to be done to stay alive. He did fear, however, the effect all of this would have on her when she awoke. He’d killed a man tonight and that had done something to him. He certainly didn’t feel the same even if the man he’d killed would have killed Sansa. He would have done it the same way again and again if it meant she lived, but it still did something to a person when you took a life. And since this was his first…

And, from what Jon had learned from Tyrion, this was her first. She’d maimed a few men in self-defense, but had never killed them. Sure she might have sent a few to the gallows (that being Tyrion), but she hadn’t done it herself. That coupled with having to face Baelish, being taken as she was, not to mention getting beat up and shot…no wonder she’d collapsed. 

He’d do whatever she needed to heal. He’d take her away, hold her, sit with her in silence, listen to her vent – whatever she needed. “I’m going to wrap you in bubble wrap,” he told her, his voice rough from exhaustion, “and put you in a tower far away from everything that can hurt you.” He laughed a bit. “Not that you would let me do something so barbaric.”

Jon sighed and put her hand back down on the bed. Then he kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed beside her. He’d showered and changed earlier after she’d been settled in the bed. Dany had gone and gotten him some clothes. She was still doing her penance for giving him such a hard time about Sansa. She’d fussed over him while he’d fussed over Sansa. He had to tell her to go away so he could fuss over Sansa in peace. 

Jon was careful to give Sansa her space; he just wanted to be near her. He pulled the covers over him and watched her sleep until finally his eyes fell shut and he fell asleep. 

xxxxxx

Sansa jerked awake, her eyes popped open and she looked around her wide-eyed for any danger. Slowly, it all came back to her, as did where she was. She was at Tyrion’s. Petyr was dead. As was Meryn and Tom. All by her hand. Ramsay was killed by Jon. 

Jon—

She opened her mouth to call for him when she felt the bed shift. She jerked her head to the side and winced. Fucking goddamn gun wound. When she saw Jon she relaxed. He was here. Of course he was here. He wouldn’t have left her. That wasn’t his way. 

She turned slowly onto her side with her good arm and winced. Her whole body hurt, especially her ribs, her arm, and even her face. She groaned and attempted to reach out to Jon and realized the error of her ways. Her arm was sore and she didn’t want to move it. So she settled for calling to him softly.

His eyes popped open almost immediately and he stared at her, blinked, and then gasped, “Sansa” and went to touch her. She winced and he stopped, dropping his arm. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I just…hurt. Remind me not to get nabbed by any more bad guys okay? It really does a number on me.”

Jon inched closer to her and gently touched her split lip. “Sweetling, God, I – I went out of my mind.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Jesus, that wasn’t your fault. There are painkillers. Do you want painkillers? What do you need?”

“I require a few things.”

“Name them.”

“The bathroom, you, and those painkillers you spoke of sound really great.”

He smiled and leaned in to brush a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth – the uninjured side. “I love you, sweet girl.” Gently he cupped the side of her face. “You know I’m never going to let you out of my sight now, right?”

“I was afraid for you, too,” she whispered and her eyes welled up in tears. “He kept threatening to have you killed if I didn’t obey him.”

“Did he…did he hurt you?”

“He didn’t rape me, Jon.”

Jon shut his eyed and pressed his forehead to hers. “What happened?”

“Can I pee first?”

He chuckled. “Of course.”

She grinned and then rolled onto her back and sighed defeatedley. “Can you help me? My ribs…”

“Who kicked you?” Jon asked grimly as he climbed out of the bed and made his way around it to help Sansa up. Looking at the bruises forming on her ribs and being told that she had a couple cracked ribs had made him want to just empty a round of bullets into Baelish’s dead body. Actually every mark on her body and _especially_ the gunshot wound on her arm had made him feel quite homicidal. 

He took her hands and helped her stand while tears ran down her cheeks from the pain. “Son of a _bitch_ ,” she muttered. 

“I’m getting you some water and those painkillers,” he told her. 

She nodded and headed slowly to the bathroom. 

When Jon went down the hall to the kitchen he was surprised to find Tyrion up and sitting at the island drinking a cup of coffee. He looked tired and worn, as though he hadn’t been to sleep at all. 

“She up?” he asked Jon. 

“She is,” Jon replied. “Just a few minutes ago. She’s in a lot of pain so I’m getting her some water for those painkillers.” He grabbed a glass from the nearby strainer on the counter and filled it from the tap. When he turned, he found Tyrion looking at him worriedly. “Does she seem okay otherwise?” 

Jon could hear the trepidation in his voice. While some of Jon’s anger had lessened from when he’d blasted Tyrion earlier, he had to acknowledge that Tyrion, in his own way, did care for Sansa. It was just that as Sansa had suspected, business was business. Tyrion had a hard time understanding that you didn’t put family in the line of fire, but then that’s what being part of the family business was all about wasn’t it? No doubt it had been passed on to him from his father. 

However, that wasn’t Jon’s concern. His concern was first and foremost Sansa. And as soon as she was ready to, they were going to have the talk about her leaving the business completely. 

“He didn’t do anything else to her,” Jon said softly. “She wasn’t raped.”

“Thank God,” Tyrion breathed and bowed his head. 

“I want you to give her space and time. Don’t crowd her. Outside of being in pain she seems all right, but she went through a lot and I just want her to have the space she needs to process.”

Tyrion nodded. “I understand. Yes.” He sighed. “You’re good for her. You are exactly what she needs. Someone to love her unconditionally and support her.”

“She’s my entire world,” Jon said, his voice wobbling from emotion. “Good night – er, good morning? Whatever. See you later, Tyrion.”

Tyrion held up a hand in a wave and Jon headed back down to the bedroom. The door to the bathroom was open and he could just make out Sansa standing in front of the sink. He put the glass of water down on the bureau and went to see the bathroom to see what she was doing. She was standing before the mirror and turning her face from side to side. 

“What are you doing?” Jon asked as he stepped inside. 

“Assessing the damage to my pretty face,” she said. “I look like shit. I can’t even remember how many times I got smacked in the face. I lost track after we got to his safe house.”

Jon’s hands fisted at his sides. He was doing well at keeping his rage down, but it boiled through him when he thought of her being smacked around. 

“It looked like you got cut pretty badly on your arm. You have stitches there now, by the way.”

She sighed and stared at her face in the mirror. “I had a gun strapped to a garter belt under my dress. A couple of Petyr’s guards took me to a room to change and I knocked a lamp over so I could get the knife without them noticing.”

She turned to face him and went on to tell him how she’d managed to stab both Tom and Meryn, and then how her final showdown with Petyr went. Jon wondered if Tyrion had punching bags somewhere. He needed to wail on one to get the pent up rage he felt out of his system. 

“You said something about painkillers?” she asked with a crooked grin. 

“Water and painkillers in the bedroom,” he said and held out his hand. She took it and he led her back to the bedroom where he gave her the glass of water and doled out a pill for her to take. He told her how the doctor had showed him how to change her bandages and that it would have to be done again in a couple hours. 

She lay back down on the bed and patted the spot next to her. Jon didn’t hesitate to climb back in beside her. He rested his hand on her hip, the one spot that was probably safe. 

“Sansa, sweetling, can you tell me what his plan was?” Jon asked softly. He didn’t want to upset her, but at the same time he needed to know all that she’d had to face last night. 

She told him about the sex trafficking, Ramsay’s involvement, and how he’d planned to take her to Miami and how Baelish wanted her to call them and tell them not to look for her, and if they did Baelish would kill them and her in one fell swoop. 

“I was going to have to sleep in his bed and eat at his table – his words. He said I was his possession now.”

“You’re safe now,” Jon told her gently. She probably hadn’t realized it, but she had started to tremble a bit. 

“I know I’m safe,” she snipped. “I killed him. I killed his punk ass henchmen, too.”

“Sansa, it’s okay to be upset.”

“I’m not upset. I’m happy he’s dead. I’m alive, you’re alive, and he’s dead.” 

“Sansa, it’s okay, sweetling.”

“What are you doing? Are you Good Will Hunting me? I know it’s okay. I’m fine, Jon. It’s over and I’m fine.” 

He could hear the tears in her voice coming, and so he wasn’t surprised when she started to cry. She doubled over, her ribs aching, and Jon held her as best he could so as to not hurt her as she let out the fear and anger and worry she’d felt throughout her ordeal.


	34. Chapter 34

“How’s Sansa?”

Jon hunched over where he sat at the edge of the bed he and Sansa had been alternately napping and talking in for most of the day at Tyrion’s. Now Sansa was drawing a bath and Jon was using the time to call Dany back after she’d blown up his phone for most of the afternoon. 

“She’s…all right,” Jon replied. 

“Once more with feeling, Jon,” Dany said dryly. 

He sighed and thought back to how she’d broken down in his arms earlier. “She’s processing.”

“Sounds about right,” Dany said softly. “It’s not easy that life. When you’re in the thick of it or when you’re watching it from the outside – it takes a toll. Have you discussed what her next step will be now?”

“Not yet,” Jon said. “But we will.” Just then Sansa appeared in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel and beckoning him to join her. Jon grinned and stood. “Dany, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Is everything all right?” Now she sounded worried. 

“Everything’s fine. I’m just going to take care of my girl.”

“That sounds like a sex thing and I don’t really need to know about that. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Night, Dany,” Jon said and hung up. He got up, yanking off his shirt and tossing it on the bed. He then got rid of his socks and padded into the bathroom where Sansa was sitting on the edge of the tub and dipping her hand in the water. She looked up at him and smiled. “Is it warm enough?”

Jon dipped his hand in. “Perfect. Why didn’t you wait for me to help you undress?”

“You’re not always going to be around to dress and undress me.”

“Oh, I don’t know. That sounds like a job I’d like to take on, quite frankly.”

She smiled and flicked some water at him. “You get in first and then help me in.”

Jon pushed down his sweat pants and boxers and smiled. “Happily.” He stepped into the tub that could easily fit at least three other people, and held out his hand to Sansa. She undid the towel and flung it on a nearby chair and took his hand. 

Jon wanted to look at her beautiful body and focus only on that – how absolutely gorgeous she was, but all he could see at the moment were the bruises on her sides and legs. Of course there was the gunshot bandage and the knife wound bandage on her forearm. 

“You’re clenching again,” Sansa told him as she stopped into the tub. 

“What?”

“Your jaw. You’ve been doing it a lot today.”

“I’ve got some rage to work out.” He furrowed his brow. “Where did you get saran wrap?” he asked as he gently touched the wrap that was around the gunshot wound bandage. 

“We’re in a house of mobsters where wounds that need to be kept dry is common. There was some in the drawer.”

Jon clenched his jaw again. He eased down into the tub and then helped Sansa, mindful of her wounds, ribs, and bruises. Her body was a battlefield and Jon hated it. “I want to wrap you in bubble wrap,” he murmured as she eased back against him. 

“Kinky,” she teased. 

“I mean it,” he whispered and kissed her shoulder. “I can’t stand to see you hurt.”

“As it turns out I’m not a fan myself.”

“Sweetheart, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

She groaned. “Nothing good ever comes after that sentence.”

“I was going to wait until you were feeling better—”

“Or that one.”

“I want you to quit,” he said plainly. “I want to take you away from here. I’d take you to your brothers if you wanted. I want you to go to school and become a vet. I want to build those benches for your own practice. I know it’s a lot to take in right now and you’re still processing—”

“Yes.”

Jon tightened his arms around her, remembered her ribs, and then loosened them. “What?”

“I’m moving, help me move,” she announced and Jon helped her move so that she was straddling him. She put her hands on his shoulders, leaned in, and kissed him sweetly. “I’m done with this crap,” she said bluntly and Jon laughed. He reached up and brushed some hair from her face and kissed her again. 

“I know it’s going to sound clichéd,” Sansa said, “but when Petyr had his gun pointed at me all I kept thinking about was how I might never see you again.”

“Sansa,” Jon murmured and kissed her again. 

“I kept thinking that I had to get out of there alive because I wanted a life with you. I wanted you and I wanted to see Bran and Rickon and Arya. I’m done, Jon. I want out and I don’t know how it will work with Tyrion because I mean, once you’re in you don’t get out but…but I want you and I want my brothers and I want my sister. I want that vet practice. I want the white picket fence and I hope that doesn’t freak you out or anything—”

“I already told Dany I was going to marry you,” Jon rasped. 

Her eyes widened. “You did?”

He nodded. 

“Did her head explode?”

Jon chuckled and shook his head. “She’s coming around.”

Sansa didn’t look as though she believed him. “Is she though? Is she?”

He smiled. “She realizes she has no choice.”

“Ah, nothing like being bullied into accepting someone.”

Jon laughed softly and drew her closer. Sansa wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. “This means I’ll have to talk to Tyrion,” she said. 

“He might not be surprised…”

She pulled back and looked at him, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I may have already told him that I was taking you away from here.”

Her brows went up. “You did?”

“I was angry and worried and…angry. I blamed him for you being taken.”

Sansa shook her head. “Petyr would have come for me regardless, Jon.”

“Still. He claimed you were family and then put you out there to be bait. That’s not how you treat family.”

She sighed. “I don’t think Tyrion knows any different. And it was partly my fault for not telling him how I felt about it. I should have been honest with him and told him I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t want him to see me as weak. Plus, some part of me really wanted to get that fucker on my own.”

“I’d say you succeeded,” Jon murmured as he ran his hand through her hair. “Oh, and I also punched Jaime. Twice.”

“Well, he kind of had it coming.”

“Right?”

She giggled and leaned in to nuzzle her nose against his. “I love you,” she whispered. 

“And I love you,” he whispered back. “You’re my entire world, Sansa.”

She smiled and rested against him until the water started to get cold. Jon helped her out of the tub and insisted on helping her dry off, take off the saran wrap on her arm, and help her get dressed. 

When they were both dressed in a change of clothes, they emerged from the bedroom hand-in-hand and headed down to the kitchen to see what food they could scrounge up. 

Tyrion, Jaime, and Sandor were all in the kitchen. Jaime had an apron on and was at the stove stirring something in a pot while Sandor and Tyrion sat at the island, a bottle of whiskey between them and a few shot glasses. When they saw Jon and Sansa they all stopped talking and looked at them. 

Feeling a bit on display, Sansa curled into Jon’s side and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good thing you’re cooking,” Jon said. “We’re starving.”

Sandor, of all people, was the one that got up and came over to Sansa. “How are you feeling, little bird?” he asked her gently. 

Sansa smiled up at him, her eyes filling up with tears. “I’m bruised and sore but I’m okay,” she said and then moved away from Jon and hugged Sandor. The big man hugged her back, a bit awkwardly, but Sansa appreciated the attempt. 

After that, Tyrion and Jaime both swooped in on her, hugging her carefully, and asking how she was faring. 

“Jaime, how much longer until dinner is ready?” Tyrion asked. 

“About a half hour,” Jaime replied. 

Tyrion smiled up at Sansa. “Perfect. Will you come with me, Sansa? I want to have a chat with you.” He looked at Jon pointedly and said, “Alone.”

Sansa nodded. “I’d like to talk to you as well.”

“My office?” Tyrion asked and Sansa nodded. “Lead the way,” he said and they both started in the direction of his office. 

Jon looked at Jaime and Sandor, feeling a bit awkward now. Sandor pointed to him and then to the seat next to him. “You. Sit.” He picked up the bottle of whiskey and poured a shot. “Drink.”

Jon did as instructed, not realizing just how much he needed to take some of the edge off his still frayed nerves until the whiskey warmed him from the inside out and left him feeling pleasantly buzzed.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're just about at the end....

As soon as Sansa and Tyrion sat down in Tyrion’s office he said, “You’re done.”

Sansa blinked at him. “What?”

“You’re done,” Tyrion said simply. “You’re out. You are fired starting now.”

Sansa blinked again. “I thought that was going to be harder. Thought it’d take some convincing and you telling me that no one leaves the mob and that once you’re in, you’re in it for life…”

“Your boyfriend was pretty adamant I let you go.” Sansa opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t quitting just because Jon wanted her to when Tyrion said, “But I’d been planning it since you told me about wanting to be a vet.”

Sansa just gaped at him. “You were?”

Tyrion nodded. He leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the desk before him and said, “Sansa, you have always been very special to me. You’re family to me, you know that.”

Sansa bit her lip and picked at a thread on her shirt. “Am I?”

“You doubt it?”

“You made me go out there, Tyrion. You made me be bait for someone who tried to—” She broke off and sighed. 

“Who tried to rape you,” Tyrion finished. 

She nodded. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly. 

“Because I…” she sighed. “Because…because I guess it’s different for a woman. Some part of me thought I asked for it I guess. I was…ashamed.”

“Asked for it? How in the world—”

“I don’t know! I can’t explain it. I think it’s just…victim mentality. Especially victim mentality of attempted rape.”

Tyrion frowned and then sat back. “I wish you would have told me. I tried to ask Jon and he wouldn’t give me anything, saying it was your story to tell. But then you wouldn’t tell me and I thought maybe if I pushed you a little you would.”

“That’s fucked up, Tyrion.”

“I wanted you to trust me. And the way you talked about him I thought you wanted to get him on your own.”

“I did, in a way, but it was just…hard. Hard in a way I hadn’t anticipated, which is odd considering…”

“I’m sorry,” Tyrion said softly. “I should have been more sensitive to it. I should have understood what you weren’t telling had absolutely nothing to do with me and everything to do with what happened to you and how you carried it with you for all these years. I of all people should have understood that in light of how you came to me.”

“Broken, you mean?” she asked with a snort.

“I knew your parents and older brother had died and that you’d left foster care. I should have put tw0-and-two together.”

“Did you think it was just a shitty home I was put in?”

“You had said as much. But you didn’t embellish on what had happened.”

“And your private investigators probably just assumed I was either rebellious or been knocked around a bit…”

“Something like that, yes.”

“You need better PI’s.”

“You think?” Tyrion said dryly and Sansa laughed. 

“Well, it’s not an uncommon story to be put in a home in which the foster family is not exactly good to the foster kid that can’t defend herself or himself,” Sansa told him. 

“True…”

“But yeah, you need better PI’s.”

He smiled and regarded her thoughtfully. “I’m going to help you.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Help me how?”

“You’re going to go away. Far away from here. And you’re going to get your GED and go to school to become a vet.”

“You have been talking to Jon.”

“I’m going to pay for you to go. Think of it as your severance package.”

“Mobsters have severance packages? I don’t even get dental through you.”

Tyrion smirked. “Does this sound like something that would work for you?”

Sansa smiled softly and nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’re going to stop thinking that boy is going to leave you. I’ve been in love before, Sansa, and I don’t think I’ve loved my previous paramours the way Jon loves you.”

“Maybe the mistake was in referring to them as paramours.”

“He’s not going anywhere, Sansa. He’s in this for the long haul.”

She heaved a sigh and nodded. “I think you might be right but there is still that small part of me that doesn’t trust it.”

“I’d wager bigger than a small part. I’d also wager it’s a survival thing to not fully trust his intentions.”

“Well, thanks, Dr. Phil.”

“Just like hiding behind sarcasm is.”

She rolled her eyes. “Any other nuggets of wisdom for me?”

“How about a suggestion?”

“Hit me.” She frowned. “Or how about not. I’ve had enough of that.”

Tyrion made a steeple of his fingers. “I hear Winterfell is nice this time of year. Cold, perhaps, but nice.”

Sansa smiled warmly. “Yes,” she said. “It is.”

xxxxxxxx

When Tyrion and Sansa returned to the kitchen, Sansa found Sandor pushing a shot glass of whiskey toward Jon and Jon shaking his head. “I’ve had enough,” Jon said. “Sansa needs me sober.”

“But Sansa kind of wants to see you drunk,” Sansa said as she came over to him and placed her hand on his back. She smiled at him and he lit up with a smile at the sight of her. He leaned in and kissed her and she giggled into it. “You’re buzzed already, aren’t you honey?” she asked. 

“He only had three shots,” Sandor grunted. “Fucking lightweight.”

“Not everyone is built like a brick shithouse, Sandor.”

Sandor grunted and grinned at her. “I could drink the lot of you under the table.”

“We know,” Jaime said with a wink at Sansa. “And no one is going to contest that.”

“Come on, Lannister, give it a shot,” Sandor said. “Or twenty.”

“Can we please not say ‘shot’?” Sansa asked with a wince as Jon pulled her in close to his side and nuzzled her neck. 

“Only for you, little bird,” Sandor said gently and Sansa smiled at him. 

Tyrion and Jaime both pulled Sandor into conversation then while Jon bid Sansa to look at him. “How did it go?” he asked softly. 

“It’s all Thundercats go,” Sansa told him.

“Pardon?” he asked with furrowed brow. 

“I’m officially released from the mob.”

Jon beamed at her. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

“You have. Just not within the last hour.”

He smiled and kissed her and then when they were met with boos and hisses, Jon and Sansa parted and helped set the table for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally lol'd when I realized I had Sandor actually say the name of the story.


	36. Chapter 36

Jon pretty much lived at Tyrion’s with Sansa while she was on the mend. He didn’t mind too much, but he was starting to miss having a little more privacy with Sansa. He waited a week before he came out with: “I want you to move in with me.”

She looked at him, expressionless, and said nothing. Jon was pretty sure she was perhaps freaking out a bit. He continued. “You said you wanted a life with me. The house with the white picket fence. I told you I wanted to take you away from here and you agreed that you wanted that, too. I told you I wanted to _marry_ you, Sansa. You’re done with Tyrion’s business and you’re a free woman. Right now you’re still healing and I think that there’s no time like the present to make the move in with me. I can take care of you—” She wrinkled her nose and Jon stopped talking. He frowned and heaved a deep breath. “What? What did I say?”

“The take care of me bit,” she replied. 

“I’ve been taking care of you all week.”

“You’ve been _helping_ me. I’d like to state for the record that I did put my shirt on today without assistance.”

Jon sat down on the bed beside her. “Sansa, do you have something against me wanting to take care of you? What do you think it means when I say that?”

She pursed her lips together and moved off to the side of her mouth as she pondered that. “I don’t know, I guess it just makes me feel…incapable.”

He gaped at her. “Sansa, you lived on the _streets_. You single-handedly took down two of Baelish’s henchman _and_ Baelish. The very last thing I think of you is incapable. Next to you I feel like I just left home for the first time and I’m not sure how to do my laundry.” She laughed at that. “When I say I want to take care of you I don’t mean that I do everything for you or that I treat you like some kind of damsel in distress. Trust me, the very last thing you are is that. It means that I take some of your burdens and worries. And it means you take care of me by doing the same. It means we look out for each other the way you do with anyone you love. You were already doing it when you put your foot down about me joining the mob.”

“Yeah, you really dodged a bullet on that one. Good thing too, because they hurt like a mother fucker.”

“There will be no more guns for you in the future,” he told her. 

“Well, I still want my gun. And you have yours still.”

“Okay, fine, but no more situations where we need them.”

“But what if—”

“Sansa.”

“You’re right. Okay, so…moving in together. Into your place.”

“Well, you currently don’t have a place and it’s going to take some time to prepare to leave for Winterfell.”

Her brows furrowed and she got up off the bed, exhaling slowly. 

“Sansa?”

“I know we talked about it and I do want to see my brothers and find Arya, but it feels like just a lot all of a sudden. Too fast and too much and I have nothing to offer them.” Jon stood and came over to her while she rambled on, sounding and looking very much panicked. “I mean, I have money, but I don’t have a job or just really anything of note—”

“Sweetling, breathe,” he said gently and tried to pull her into his arms. She wasn’t having it though. She pushed away from him, but not ungently. “I need some air.”

Jon nodded and watched her hurry out of the room. He hated when she pulled away from him, but he also knew she needed some space. She’d been dealing with a lot and now had even more to consider. He just hoped that he still fit into her plans. He knew he shouldn’t doubt her after all they’d been through, but he was well aware of the lengths she would go to if she felt she needed to protect herself. 

He had more of her trust than he thought he’d ever get considering their relationship was still rather new. He had more to go, but he’d get there. 

xxxxxxxxx

Sansa went out to the pool and stood before it, just staring into the water and thinking about how her life had changed so drastically in just over a week. No. Longer than that. Since she’d met Jon. And he thought she’d turned his life upside down?

Since Jon (and minus the Petyr shit) she’d fallen in love, longed for a different life, quit working for Tyrion and now she was planning on moving in with Jon, seeing her brothers, and possibly going to school. 

“What’s up, Red?”

Sansa looked over at Jaime who was now standing next to her. “Pinch me,” she said and lifted her good arm.

His brow furrowed. “Haven’t you had enough pain inflicted upon your person?”

She sighed and dropped her arm. “Good point.”

“So, what has you looking so hard at the water? You only do that when something is troubling you.”

For all of Jaime’s faults – and there were many – she had to give him credit where credit was due. He did know her well. And once upon a time before he got it in his head that he wanted her, he’d actually been her friend. Kind of. 

Sansa lifted her head and looked out across the deck out into the yard with its dirt paths and gorgeous flower beds. “Have you ever…wanted more? I mean, have you ever wanted to not be doing this and thought perhaps you could do something else?”

“All the time.”

That surprised her. She looked at Jaime in shock. 

“What? I can have dreams and aspirations, too,” he said. “The problem is that outside of my very specific skills set I’m not sure what I could do.”

“I think you’d be really good at banking. Or like Wall Street stuff. I mean, both of those seem kind of cutthroat and you’re good at that.” She pointed over her shoulder. “I know a guy if you’re interested.”

“See, Stark, this is the kind of stuff I am really going to miss. You busting my balls.”

“I thought that’s what Cersei was for.”

“Cute.” She laughed and he joined her. “Tell me though, what is it that’s scaring you? The idea that now you have your whole life spread out before you and you can literally do anything with it?”

She nodded, the weight of his words hitting her hard. “ _Yeah_.”

“Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position?”

“I’m not sure how comfortable I am with all these references to killing anymore…”

“There are people out there, and not just yours truly, who wish they had the ability to change their circumstances. Start over. Begin a new life. And you have that opportunity now. It’s scary, sure, but is the devil you know better than having this chance at a new life?”

“No,” she whispered. “But…what if I fail?” Her eyes welled up in tears. “What if vet school is too hard? What if I’m not smart enough?”

“That’s shit and you know it.”

“What if my brothers don’t want to see me? What if I never find Arya? What if I fail Jon?”

“You know what you’re worrying about all that tells me?”

“I’m broken just like you said?”

“No, darling, you’re not broken. I was wrong when I said that to you. You’re cracked, but not broken, and for a while now all the kings horses and all the kings men – or, you know, _Jon_ – has been putting you back together.” He turned to face her and she turned to face him as well. He dug into his suit pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. She took it gratefully and wiped at her tears. “All this worrying tells me you’re just going to fight extra hard, just like you always do, Sansa. Someone tells you that you can’t do something and you find a way to do it anyway. You might fail at a few things, but then you do what you always do – pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and try again.”

“How are you managing to make me feel better even though you sound like some kind of goddamn self-help book?” she asked through her tears. 

“Hey, don’t knock self-help books. Without them I wouldn’t be this well-adjusted man you see before you.”

She laughed and he smiled at her. And then she hugged him. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back. 

She pulled away and looked at him thoughtfully. “And just so you know?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not broken either. I think it’s something you tell yourself so you can keep doing stupid shit and not having to take any responsibility for it.” 

“Ah, Sansa. See? Busting my balls again.”

She rolled her eyes, hugged him again, and then hurried off to Jon. He was where she’d left him, still looking as pensive. She sat down on the bed beside him and leaned over to kiss him. He accepted her kiss eagerly and cupped the side of her face with one hand. “Better?”

She nodded. “I’m petrified, but I’m also petrified of the alternative which is not changing anything at all. I’ll move in with you but I want you to be aware that I could suck at it. I’ve never lived with a boy before.”

He grinned. “I’ve never lived with a girl before.”

“And as for my brothers…I do want to see them, but I want to have something I can offer them. I want to be a whole person. A fully formed adult. I have some stuff I need to do first, and when I’m done we could go?”

He nodded, leaned in, and kissed her. “I love you. Don’t forget that ever.”

She smiled. “I promise I won’t.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Three Weeks Later**

“You haven’t forgotten about dinner tonight, have you?” Daenerys asked Jon without preamble as she entered his office. 

He looked up from his laptop and sat back in his swivel chair. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”

“And Sansa will be joining you?”

He nodded, thinking back on that morning when Jon had told her that Daenerys had invited them to dinner. Sansa had not been happy about it. 

She’d sat up in bed – _their_ bed now – and watched him dress for work. 

“But she hates me,” Sansa had whined. 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Jon had told her. “She wants to get to know you better.”

“So she can find fault with me,” Sansa had grumbled and grabbed her giant GED book from the nightstand. Tyrion had gotten her the book just the week before and since then she’d been a studying fiend. Sometimes it was all Jon could do to pull her attention away from it. 

Things had been hectic, too, for both of them since the whole Baelish fiasco. Between Sansa healing then moving in with Jon and settling in – albeit awkwardly – Jon felt as though he and Sansa hadn’t had much alone time. 

He missed her. Desperately. 

It was new for both of them, living together. Neither had any experience with living together, but one thing Jon did know that Sansa had not quite learned was that when one left the apartment and would not be back for a while it was helpful to leave a note, send a text, or call. 

_One evening when Jon returned home from work excited to see her, she wasn’t there. When he called, her phone went right to voicemail. He called Tyrion, thinking perhaps she was with him. It turned out she’d first gone out to the library, and then met up with Sandor and had a couple drinks with him. Jon had been beside himself with worry until she got home and told him that. And then he’d gotten angry with her._

_“Sansa, you need to leave me a note or send me a text or give me a call,” he told her. “You can’t just not come home for hours on end and not let me know. I was worried.”_

_She blinked. “Why? I was just with Sandor.”_

_“That’s not the point! After all that’s happened I would have liked to know what you were doing, plus, you know, it’s just courteous to let the person you’re living with know where you are and when you might be home.”_

_“What if I don’t know when I’m coming home?” she asked defiantly. “Does that mean you get to stop me?”_

_“I would not stop you from doing what you wanted to do, and if you didn’t know what time you were coming home then you can just tell me that,” he told her calmly._

_She was put out with him still, clearly not liking to be told what to do though Jon didn’t feel so much he had told her what to do. He’d advised her. It was just that Sansa had been so used to doing what she wanted when she lived with Ygritte and before that one her own, that this was different for her._

_“Fine,” she said curtly and then departed to shower._

_Jon climbed up to bed and waited for her on their bed. When she emerged she sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” she said._

_“I don’t mean to make you feel like you can’t do anything,” he said softly._

_“I warned you I was going to be terrible at this,” she said into his shoulder._

_“You’re not, sweetling. Just new at it. We both are.”_

_“I hadn’t expected to be out that long with Sandor,” she said and perched her chin on his shoulder. “I just had some stuff to talk to him about.”_

_“Sandor talks?”_

_She laughed softly. “If you know the right lubricant. That being whiskey.”_

_“I see. And what did you have to talk to him about?” he asked, running a hand down her back and then through her damp locks._

_“Oh, you know the usual. Murder and mayhem.”_

_Jon frowned and pulled back to look at her. “Pardon?”_

_She sighed and looked up at him, her hands fidgeting in her lap now. “He’s had experience killing men before. I wanted to know if it was normal to have nightmares about it.”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”_

_She shrugged. “We’ve been busy adjusting to living together and you’ve been stressed with work. I didn’t want to bother you with it. Plus, it’s not like you’ve had experience with it either. You never mention killing Ramsay so I just assumed it didn’t bother you.”_

_He looked at her thoughtfully. “It does and it doesn’t. I think I’ve just…compartmentalized it. There is no doubt that it changes you, taking a life, but at the moment it came down to there being no choice. He was going to kill you. Probably me, too. If I didn’t do it then you would be dead. It was a no brainer, but it’s still disturbing to think about. Is that what it is for you?”_

_She nodded. “Yes. Plus, you know just that whole night.” She shivered and Jon pulled back in his arms. “I had to force myself to leave Tyrion’s, and not because I was afraid to live with you but because I was afraid to leave the sanctuary there period. And then I’ve had to force myself to go out because I still feel like I have to look over my shoulder. I made Sandor meet me at some fancy place in the city. He grumbled about it but I think he understood.”_

_“Sansa, I wish you would share these things with me. That’s what it means to live together and be in a committed relationship. This is exactly what I was talking about when I said that we’d take care of each other. It means you can unload what’s bothering you onto me.”_

_“Can I unload how annoying it is when you dump your clothes on the floor?”_

_He poked the uninjured part of her arm. “I mean it, Sansa.”_

_She sighed. “I know. I guess I’m just…I’m not used to it. I’m used to just figuring stuff out on my own. I didn’t tell you about how hard it was to leave Tyrion’s and then your penthouse—”_

_“ **Our** penthouse,” he corrected. _

_“You pay for everything; it’s yours.”_

_“Sansa—”_

_“Can that be another topic for later?”_

_He sighed. “Sure.”_

_“Anyway, I didn’t tell you about those things because I am used to just pushing through it. I know what I need to do and I force myself to do it. I knew Sandor was the best person to talk to regarding the other stuff and so I did. I’m telling you now. Does that count for anything?”_

_“It does, but—”_

_“There it is. The ‘but’.”_

_He pulled back again and looked at her. “Yes, there is a but. I know how resilient you are. I know how strong you are. I know you’re not used to leaning on someone but I am telling you that you **can** lean on me. Even if it’s just to tell me what is bothering you and that you already have a plan to fix it. Just tell me so I know what is going on in your head.”_

_She heaved a deep breath and nodded. “I will work on that. Will you work on picking up your clothes?”_

_He laughed. “Yes.”_

So, that morning after he’d finished dressing she’d closed her GED study guide and glared at him. “Can I tell you what’s going on in my head?”

He smiled. “Of course.”

“If she starts any shit I’m outta there. Obviously I don’t deny you spending time with your cousin, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with any of her crap.”

“I know, sweetling.”

“Don’t ‘sweetling’ me, Jon Snow.”

He leaned in and kissed her soundly. “I love you. Remember that?”

She nodded. “I love you, too.”

Now Dany was frowning at him as though she knew exactly what had happened between him and Sansa that morning. “I know she’s not exactly keen on me,” Dany said slowly. 

“Are you keen on her?” 

She looked at him sharply. “I want to try.”

“That’s what I told her. So you’re going to actually have to do it and not use this as some kind of ruse to attempt to scare her away. Let me warn you now: Sansa doesn’t spook easy. Also, remember what I told you before. If you don’t accept her then you’ll make me choose and we both know who I will choose.”

“You know I do have a lot of respect for after what she’s been through and what she did to get out of it,” Dany told him. 

“She shouldn’t have had to be taken and then kill a few men for you to respect her,” Jon pointed out. 

“You don’t think you’re being just a bit unreasonable here?”

Jon barked out a laugh. “Not really. Look, I love you. A lot. We’re family. But you’ve been managing me along with this company for a long time. I went along with it for so long because I…I think I was just asleep. Sansa woke me up. She’s changed me and she’s changed my life. I’m not asleep anymore.”

“What do you wish of me then?” Dany asked with arms folded across her chest. 

Jon stood and made his way around the desk and put his hands on her shoulders. “I want you to be the cool cousin I know you can be. Be the Dany that has fun and likes to laugh, not Dany the manager of the family. Not Dany the boss of this company. Not Dany the boss of her husband’s empire. Be the fun Dany I know is in there. Sansa will respond to that.”

Dany sighed and dropped her arms to her sides. “I can do that.”

“Can you?” he teased. 

“I can try,” she said and lightly smacked him in the gut. 

He grinned. “Thank you.”

When Jon got home that afternoon, he had dumped his keys on the table next to the door and loosened his tie. He had the mail in his hand and was looking over the bill on top when he looked up and burst out laughing. 

Sansa stood before him in a black pencil skirt that went down to her knees, a blue turtleneck, and a black cardigan. She had on boring black flats, her hair was pulled back into a bun, and she wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses. “Do you think the Queen will appreciate my conservative effort?” she asked. 

Jon came over to her and kissed her. “I don’t think you have to go to this extreme, but I have to say it must be stirring up some repressed librarian fantasy in me. We have some time before we need to head over…” He leaned in and nuzzled at her neck. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she whispered and tilted her head to the side to give him better access. Then she stepped away from him just as Jon had pressed himself against her. His want was evident against her stomach. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have time. We have exactly thirty minutes and it takes twenty to get to her house. We are not going to be late and I am not going to have sex hair when we get there. I’ll change the turtleneck and get rid of the glasses but the rest stays.”

Jon groaned and hung his head. “Okay.”

Ten minutes later they were on their way out the door when Sansa whispered in Jon’s ear, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

“I can reschedule,” Jon said and pulled her to him, nuzzling at her neck and biting it gently. “Let me reschedule.”

Sansa giggled. “No, I want to just get it over with.” She pulled away from him and took him by the hand, practically dragging him out the door. “But you can definitely make it up to me later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Who's up for some smut?


	38. Chapter 38

Jon was surprised to find a man with Dany in her apartment. A man that was not just there for business reasons. His name was Jorah and he was older than Dany, but Drogo had also been older than her so Jon figured his cousin must have a thing for older men. It was obvious that Jorah was smitten with Dany, and Jon could see the familiar twinkle in Dany’s eyes that let him know Jorah was not alone in being smitten.   
Jorah seemed to have an ease with conversation and with Sansa that Dany had previously lacked. Following Jorah’s lead, Dany interacted with Sansa much better – there was nothing accusatory or judgmental in her approach and he could tell that it put Sansa at ease whereas the whole drive over she had been tense and twitchy. 

Granted, her calm demeanor could also have a bit to do with the wine Dany offered them as soon as they’d walked in the door. While standing outside on the balcony that was off Dany’s living room that overlooked a tremendous view of the city, Jon slid his arm about Sansa’s waist and kissed her shoulder. She looked over at him and smiled and he leaned in and kissed her softly. She tasted like wine and smelled like flowers and Jon had to remind himself that they were not home, not yet. 

“So, Sansa, Jon tells me after you acquire your GED you are going to apply to veterinary school?” Dany asked. 

Jon smirked. She was going to apply all right, but Tyrion had already told her that she would get in. In other words – Tyrion had paved the way for her to get in and realize her dreams. Sansa had been a bit put out by that, wanting to get in on her own merit. 

_“Think of it this way,”_ Tyrion had said, _“You’re ‘merit’ is what will keep you in the program.”_

When put that way, Sansa had grudgingly agreed. It was going to be a long road too. First she had to get through her undergrad schooling, and then move on to grad work. Sansa had already decided that once she had finished her undergrad work, she would finish out her grad degree where her brothers were. She wanted to take the time to get herself a real job, complete the first leg of her studies, and be working toward something substantial when she saw her brothers again. Jon thought perhaps she could see them in the interim, but he had yet to broach that topic with her yet. Four years was a long time even if she did think she might be able to manage her undergrad work in three. 

“Yes,” Sansa replied, and then gave Dany the synopsis of her plan leaving out the bit about her brothers. Jon had told Dany of their plans for the future, but he didn’t think Dany had really believed he would be leaving Kings Landing eventually. Dany had the mindset of there was plenty of time for other things to happen that could keep them where they were. Jon figured they’d cross that bridge when they got closer to it. 

“Jon is going to make me a bench for when I get my own practice,” Sansa said proudly. 

“Jon is going to _make a bench_ , you said?” Dany asked incredulously. 

“Yes, he is,” Jon said indignantly. “Jon likes woodworking.”

“And talking in third person,” Sansa chimed in. 

He chuckled and squeezed her waist affectionately. “Brat.”

She grinned at him and not for the first time since they’d left home he wished they’d never had to leave it. He wanted Sansa. Badly. 

“So, uh, when will dinner be ready exactly?” Jon asked as he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. He didn’t mean to rush things along, but he kind of wanted to….rush things along. 

Sansa looked at him with an expression that told him she knew exactly what he was thinking and he grinned lecherously at her. 

“Oh, um, I will check,” Dany said. 

“I’ll join you,” Jorah said and followed her inside. 

“Hungry, Jon?” Sansa asked with faux innocence. “I didn’t know you liked lemon chicken so much. I’ll have to get the recipe.”

“You’re a minx,” Jon growled and nipped at her lips. “You know exactly what I’m hungry for.”

“Oh?”” Sansa turned so that she was pressed against him and with her hand that was not facing the balcony doors, she slithered a hand down to the front of his pants. “I see…”

Jon leaned in, intent on claiming her lips when Dany knocked on the doors and waved them inside. 

Sansa grinned up at Jon and then turned towards Dany. “What can I do to help?”

Jon turned and faced the scenery with a groan. 

“Is Jon coming in?” he heard Dany ask. 

“Yeah, he’ll be in soon. He just really likes the view.”

Jon chuckled. God, he loved her. 

xxxxxxxx

It was amazing to Jon how Sansa could carry on a conversation with Jorah about politics – and who knew that Sansa was so well informed on the subject? – while gliding her foot up and down his leg under the table. 

He was harder than nails and when she pressed her foot into his crotch he nearly tipped over his wine. “I’m clumsy tonight,” he muttered as he righted his glass. 

Dany looked at him in question and he just shrugged. He looked at Sansa with the intent to send her the signal to stop, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was listening to whatever Jorah was saying. 

She moved her foot against his hard cock and Jon tried to breathe normally. He didn’t want to cum in his pants at the table. So, he slowly slipped one hand under the table and grabbed her bare foot. She looked at him finally and their eyes met. He moved her foot to his thigh and started to knead her foot with his hand slowly. 

She bit her lip and then took a bite of her chicken. Jon began to mentally go over excuses they could make for having to skip out on dessert. 

xxxxxxx

Jon was pretty sure that Sansa meant to kill him. He had started to tell Dany how he had been pretty knackered all day and perhaps they could get their dessert to go when Sansa piped up and asked Dany if Jon could go in later the next day. 

“Of course!” Dany exclaimed. “Jon is free to make his own schedule. He knows that.”

No one mentioned that if Jon didn’t show up by a specific time though, Dany would be calling him to make sure he was all right. 

Sansa smiled. “Excellent. Then we can stay for cheesecake, Jon? It does look rather delicious and now that you’re able to sleep in…”

The mischievous glint in her eye didn’t fool Jon for a minute. While Dany and Jorah went to get dishes and the whipped cream, Jon leaned in to Sansa and muttered hotly in her ear, “If I’m going in late tomorrow I hope you’re prepared to be up all night.”

She smirked at him. “Why do you think I asked if you could go in later?”

He groaned. “Christ, Sansa. I’ve been fucking hard all night.”

“Would it make you feel better to know I’ve been wet all night? And remember how I’m not wearing any panties…”

“Goddammit, Sansa,” Jon groaned again. “I need you now…”

“Soon, darling, soon,” she cooed, then whispered, “here they come!”

“Don’t say cum!” he hissed and she giggled as she sat down and tugged on Jon’s hand so that he’d sit down next to her this time. 

After dessert was served and they’d all tucked in, Jon slid his hand down under the table and gripped Sansa’s bare knee. He heard her sharp intake of breath and he covered the sound by complimenting Dany on the cheesecake. 

Dany admitted she did not make it, nor had she made the dinner, but thanked him nonetheless and launched into a story about her cook. 

Jon half listened as she slid Sansa’s skirt up further. He nearly moaned when he felt her spread her legs. When he came to her wet heat he thought he might perish right there. 

“You don’t mind do you, Jon?” Dany asked. 

“Hmmm? No,” he said, hoping whatever he’d agreed to wasn’t a big deal. 

“Excellent. I’ll have your itinerary for the trip made up at the end of the week for you.”

Jon froze in his exploration of Sansa. “What?”

Meanwhile, Sansa pushed his hand away from her. He let his hand just hang between them. 

Dany blinked. “I asked if you minded going to Seattle to check up on them and you said no.”

A grin split Jon’s face. “Seattle, you say?” he asked and looked over at Sansa who was chuckling. He grinned at Dany who looked confused. “Can you make it a trip for two?”

Dany’s confusion cleared and she nodded. “Ah, yes. That is where you two met, right?”

Jon smiled. “Yes.” Now he brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers. “Yes, this cheesecake is quite good, Dany.”

“You said that already, Jon,” Dany said. 

“Mmm, yes, but it bears repeating,” Jon said with a wink at Sansa. 

xxxxxxxxxx 

It was the longest goodbye of his life, Jon decided. In reality it was a handshake to Jorah, a hug to Dany and the same for Sansa with the both of them, but Jon was done. He wanted out of Dany’s penthouse and inside Sansa. 

_Now._

And now that Dany and Sansa had apparently decided they liked each other, he couldn’t seem to stop their chatting. That is, until he interrupted them. “Remember how I’m tired?” he asked Sansa pointedly. 

She laughed and nodded. “Of course.”

Dany looked bewildered as Jon kissed her cheek, said goodbye again to her and Jorah, and then pushed Sansa out to door and then down the hall to the elevator. The doors had just shut when Jon hit the button to stop it from moving and sank to his knees in front of Sansa. 

“Jon!” Sansa exclaimed. “Here? Now? You can’t wait until we get home?”

He was already pushing her skirt up. “No,” he muttered and when her pussy was in view, he licked at her and moaned. He feasted on her, savored her. Dinner and dessert were not as good as his sweet Sansa was. 

When she came, Jon didn’t stop. Not until she pushed him away. Then he rose, undid his pants, and pushed them and his boxers down. He placed one hand by her head and the other on his cock, guiding himself to her entrance. He pushed inside her slowly, watching her face as she took him. Her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned as she gripped at his shoulders. 

“You drive me crazy,” he muttered as he slowly fucked her. “Christ, I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you…” He grunted as he slammed into her hard. “All. The. Time.” He slammed inside her hard with each word and Sansa cried out, her head falling back against the wall. 

Jon leaned in and undid the bun in her hair. He watched as her red hair spilled down around her shoulder. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful I can’t stand it,” he whispered and kissed her. “I love you,” he muttered against her lips. “My Sansa. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

She nodded and kissed him. “And you’re mine.”

“Yes,” he breathed and started pounding inside of her. “I am yours. Fuck me back, Sansa. That’s my girl, yes, that’s it.” He groaned and buried his face in her neck. “I’m going to come.”

“Do it,” she whispered pleadingly. “Please, Jon. I want to feel your cum deep inside of me…”

“Cum with me,” he begged and placed one hand on her clit and started moving his thumb in circles over it. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock…”

She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders and her eyes rolling up in her head. Her walls gripped him, milked him, and he came so hard he thought he might pass out. He leaned against her, both of them panting. He kissed her languidly and she hummed into it. 

“Take me home,” she murmured, sounding tired now. 

“Don’t forget, we have the whole night before us,” he reminded her. “I don’t have to be in until late now thanks to you.”

“What was I thinking?” she asked with wide-eyes. 

He grinned. “Well, I might just have to stay home tomorrow so we can spend the day, ya know, resting.”


	39. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are finally at the end! Wow, what a ride! I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you very much everyone for reading and reviewing!

**Six Years Later, Winterfell**

“I’m not seeing a beer in your hand am I, Rickon?” Jon asked as he strolled in from the deck. Sansa was right behind him and arched a brow at her younger brother. 

“I was just taking a sip, I swear,” he said, his blue eyes wide and innocent. He thrust the bottle towards Bran and some of it splashed over the top and got the front of Bran’s shirt wet. 

Bran frowned and gestured to the bottle of beer on the island counter in Jon and Sansa’s kitchen. “I already have—oof. I mean, thanks.” If Sansa had to guess, Rickon had just kicked Bran under the island. 

Jon folded his arms across his chest and just looked Rickon. Rickon sighed. “Okay, okay, I took a beer. I was just going to have one.”

“That’s what your sister says when I catch her stealing my Oreo’s,” Jon said. 

“Whatever happened to what’s mine is yours?” Sansa asked as she pulled the platter of hamburger patties from the fridge and placed them on the counter. “I’m pretty sure our wedding vows extended to yummy treats.”

“You said you didn’t even _like_ Oreo’s,” Jon reminded her. 

“I’m allowed to change my mind,” she said with a sniff. “Maybe I like them with a tall glass of milk. Maybe I find nothing more satisfying that working through a stack of ‘em and having the milk get all spotted with Oreo bits.”

“Maybe you need to buy another package then,” Jon suggested. “And maybe you need to not put the empty package away and throw it out so I don’t get excited thinking I’m going to get Oreo’s and end up with nothing.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “God, yes, you’re so deprived.”

Jon pulled her against him and kissed her, causing Bran and Rickon to groan and look away. 

“Are they doing it again?” Arya asked as she came strolling into the kitchen. “Are they getting handsy?”

“Yes!” Bran and Rickon exclaimed in unison. 

“You do realize you’ve been married for, like, two years now, right?” Arya asked as she leaned against the counter and wrinkled her cute little button nose. “You can stop with the PDA any time now.”

Jon kissed Sansa one last time and smirked at Arya before grabbing the platter of meat and strolling back outside to the grill. Also to the other guests, that being Dany, Jorah, Aegon and Sam. 

Also…

“So, I like Gendry,” Sansa said to Arya as she took the lid off the potato salad that was on the counter. 

“Did you like how they snuck off to make out behind the shed earlier?” Bran asked with a grin at Arya. Arya flipped him off and Rickon laughed. 

“Rickon,” Sansa said, nodding to him. “One beer. _One_. Just don’t let Jon see you drinking it. He gets really uptight about underage drinking. And don’t you dare tell your foster parents I let you have one.”

“Thank you, San-sa,” Rickon sing-songed. 

Sansa smiled as she went to the fridge to take out the rest of the food for the barbecue. She wasn’t even really paying attention to her siblings as they talked for she was thinking not for the first time in the past six years just how lucky she was. How it had been such a long road to get to this place. But now, she was working as a vet tech while she finished up vet school, and while Jon hadn’t completely left working for his cousin, he at least did not work the same crazy hours as before. He even made time to work in the basement in the little “man space” he’d made for himself. Currently he was working on that bench he’d promised her so long ago. 

As it turned out, Jon hadn’t been able to wait all that long before proposing to her. They’d been living together for all of six months when she’d found the ring box in his sock and underwear drawer. She still couldn’t get over how he’d put it there of all places. Stealthy, he wasn’t. 

A year after that they were married. Much to Dany’s chagrin, they’d eloped. Sansa didn’t really care about a big wedding and since she didn’t have family in her life quite yet, she just wanted to marry Jon. So, they’d gone off to Vegas and after getting hitched in a somewhat classy joint, they’d spent the weekend gambling and fornicating. 

When they’d returned home, Arya had been outside Jon’s door. Because of course Arya wouldn’t want to be found, she would just make her presence known when the time was right for her to do so. 

Jon had helped her get on her feet by first getting Arya an apartment, and then he’d helped her get a job. The two were thick as thieves from the beginning. When it came time to carry out the next leg of her plan, Sansa and Jon moved to Winterfell and Arya moved with them. She’d found a job and gotten an apartment and she’d been there when Sansa and Jon had gone to visit Rickon and Bran the first time. 

Rickon and Bran hadn’t remembered much of them. Thankfully, their foster parents had made it a point to mention Arya and Sansa to them so that they knew they did have siblings out there even if they couldn’t be with them right away. And they had prepared the two for Arya and Sansa’s visit. 

It had taken some time, but eventually they had gotten to a place where hanging out at their sister’s house with her and her husband was not too awkward. Meanwhile, they were both going to Winterfell State, living at home, and working part-time. 

Sansa knew there would probably be more changes coming up as Bran was looking for a job in the city for after graduation next year. He wouldn’t be too far away, but Sansa was already missing him. 

She smiled as her siblings mock-argued and then asked them to help her take the rest of the food stuffs out with her. They all pitched in, still mock arguing and placed the trays on the cart near the grill. 

Sansa smiled at Dany and Jorah and made her way over to Jon. She sidled up next to her and kissed his cheek. “Hey.”

He smiled at her. “Hey.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Are you having fun?” she asked. 

“I am. Are you?”

“It’s the best day ever.”

She smiled when she felt him kiss the top of her head. “Before I forget, Tyrion sent me a text earlier.”

Sansa lifted her head and looked at him. “Why was he texting you?”

“Because you failed to text him and tell him what you got on your last final. He thought maybe it was bad since you didn’t and asked me instead. So you should probably call him.”

“God he’s worse than Jaime.”

“And I’m still saying it doesn’t bother me that he texts you.”

“He’s like, so over the moon for Brienne, Jon. Besides. I’m married to you, remember?”

“As if I would ever forget that,” he murmured and dipped his head to kiss her. “I love you, Mrs. Snow.”

“I love you too, Mr. Snow,” she murmured with a smile. 

“Don’t burn my burger!” Dany called out. 

Jon sighed and set to work flipping the burgers over. “As much as I enjoy our family visits, I can’t wait until Dany and Jorah leave for Kings Landing tomorrow. I want you all to myself again.”

Sansa sighed. She understood how he felt, but she wasn’t in any rush to send everyone packing. She’d spent a lot of time wanting and wishing just for this – a family. And now she had it. She didn’t think Jon knew just how grateful she was to him for helping her obtain it, but she promised to show him tomorrow after Dany left.


End file.
